


Cross My Heart Hope You Die

by folykl, OverexcitedSoul



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Deadbeat Dad Jack, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Handsome Jack & Timothy Lawrence are Twins, Hunter Handsome Jack, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Vampire Bites, Vampire Rhys, suicide baiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22191040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folykl/pseuds/folykl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverexcitedSoul/pseuds/OverexcitedSoul
Summary: Jack is a hunter, a hero, who crushes the creatures hiding in the shadows. Rhys is a vampire hardened by living on the edge of society, wanting nothing more than to return to his normal life. What’s meant to be a simple night causes both of their lives to spiral out of control.Facing impossible odds two natural enemies, the hunter and the hunted, find themselves entangled in a catastrophe of their own creation. Risking death and undeath the two must set aside their strifes in order to survive.Of course, that's if they don't wind up killing each other first.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sooo this is a colab between me and my friend soul and weve been at it for a while now. we got a quite a few chapters already written out theyre just being edited so expect those to come out every week or so. 
> 
> there just isnt enough vampire rhys content or enemies to friends to lovers rhack in general so were trying to fix that
> 
> anyways! vampire time

Night hung over the city streets. Promethea was a rambunctious city, always bustling with activity; but that wasn’t the case in this corner of town. Not in the dark alleyways near the rundown bars which were famous for frequent muggings and incidents of arson. Any civilian with any reasonable amount of money did their best to avoid these parts of town, and for good reason. 

Jack wasn’t one of those reasonable civilians.

He was a hunter, and a dangerous one at that. He didn’t hunt deer, rabbits, or whatever other crap normal people hunted. He hunted things which needed to be hunted. Things that couldn’t exist on this mortal realm without getting punished. He killed things that went bump in the night and terrified little boys and girls who were trying to get a good night’s rest. He was the goddamn _hero_ who sent demonic hell spawn directly back to the hell which they had come from before they could rip apart the organs of innocent humans trying to go about their lives.

Jack was a monster hunter and he was a damn good one at that. 

He rounded a street corner, gripping his gun in his hands as he went. He’d been tracking this particular vampire for a while now, trying to figure out the way he ticked. The bastard had slipped through his fingers every time Jack got close. He always cursed himself for being too late, but not this time; this time he’s got him cornered. He grinned to himself. _The little fucker was beyond fucked now._

“Here, little kitty, kitty!” He taunted the monster with glee as he aimed his gun at him. “Handsome Jack here, have we met before? Because I really don’t think we have yet.” He chuckled darkly. 

The haze of feeding still hung heavy over the vampire, like cotton balls in his mind. Not quite registering what was happening yet, he turned his head towards the voice. His half-lidded eyes shot wide open as the scene became clear. His eyes ran over the man, the gun, and the scar covering his face.

"Uhh..." was all Rhys could bring himself to say. There was no talking his way out of this one, not while blood still dribbled down his chin.

The alley only opened to the street on one side, as the vampire had planned it that way. There was no where for the prey to run. However, now _he_ was the prey. He berated himself for not thinking ahead for this specific scenario. Just because he hadn’t run into any hunters in years didn’t mean they simply stopped existing. Rhys’ eyes swiftly landed on the fire escape to his left and he ran for it, praying that not all the rumors about this hunter were true. 

Jack watched the bloodsucker attempt to run. He’d find it adorable if he hadn’t seen it coming a mile away. “Nuh-uh-uh!” He fired a bullet towards his feet. Depending on how strong this one was, there was no telling how much damage the bullet would do, but tripping him up always was a good idea. Besides, Jack liked to have a bit of fun with the creatures he hunted before he killed them. He had to get his kicks somehow. 

“You really think you can just get away from this? After I went out of my way to introduce myself and everything?” Jack made his way towards the monster. “Seriously, cupcake! Did you forget your manners while you were feeding on innocent people or what?” 

Rhys yelped as the bullet ricocheted past his foot, stopping dead in his tracks. _Okay, so flight wasn't looking like a feasible option._

He swallowed his fear and straightened his pose. "I'll have you know I have great manners, they're just reserved for people who, you know... _aren't trying to kill me!"_ He snarked, giving the hunter another once over. He'd have to deal with the gun somehow. " _And...!_ From what _I've_ heard, _you_ don't exactly have the cleanest hands either."

“So you’ve heard of me? That’s going to make getting acquainted a whole lot easier.” Jack smirked. _The vamp’s got a personality on him. That was always fun to toy around with._ “See, I would use my dirty hands you’ve heard so much about to directly strangle you, but I got a feeling you’d like having my blood filled hands that close to your chompers. You sick little _freak_.” That and he knew strangulation didn’t work on vampires; he already tried.

Jack proceeded to cock his gun. “Yeah, not gonna lie, I’m pretty damn happy with my gun. It’s pretty nice, isn’t it? It’s brand new.” 

Rhys tensed up at the sound of the gun. "Lucky me I guess." 

_No openings yet._ He had to keep stalling. "I don't see why I'm the bad guy here. You know what this piece of _shit_ ," he kicked the body, which remained motionless, "was trying to pull? I'll give you a hint: it involved two young girls and a not-so-happy ending." He growled, "he was _gloating about it._ I may be a ‘freak’, but I have better standards than most of your kind." He flashed his fangs in a grim smile, still wet with blood. 

“Lemme get this straight. You’re a vampire who has _morals_?” Jack began to laugh, “oh that's golden! Really golden how you expect me to believe that. Vampires are one: liars who would say anything to get their slimy asses out of trouble; and two: don’t actually give a single shit about who or what their victims are.”

Jack looked at the monster’s teeth. Yeah, he didn’t give one shit what the dead body in front of them did, a creature that had fangs as sharp as that was a demon straight from hell. Even if the rest of him was... actually _quite attractive_ , but Jack did his best to ignore that train of thought. 

Of course vampires are attractive, it’s part of their ways to manipulate humans. He wasn’t about to let himself fall for it. “You might also want to wipe your mouth. You’re getting drool everywhere, princess.” 

"Morals, preferences, whatever you'd like to call it." Rhys went to wipe his face with his sleeve, then stopped after seeing the blood already staining it. "This is a new shirt!" His menacing expression shifted into a pout.

Despite the casual attitude, this hunter seriously hated vampires. Rhys’ usual charm wasn't going to be effective. He clenched his fist, feeling his claws strain against the fabric of his right glove. It wasn't much, but surprise was the only advantage he had right now.

"Oh, and you do give a shit? Why even bother with all this?" He tried to keep Jack talking. 

“Because I’m the goddamn _hero_ , and you, are a goddamn _monster_.” Jack took another step towards the vampire. “I’m just doing my part in letting good little girls and boys sleep tight at night. It’s what heroes do, not that you’d understand anything about that.” He yawned, “anyways, enough chit-chat pumpkin, I just wanna say, I am so sorry to hear about your new shirt getting ruined. It’s going to be a real shame that you’re going to need more than just stain remover to fix this mess.” He said as he pulled the trigger, aiming for the right arm this time. 

_What could he say?_ Jack was just a huge fan of shooting the limbs off first to really elongate the amount of suffering he could inflict before the creature finally went back to hell. 

The vampire hissed as the bullet sank through his arm with a _thump_. Ready or not, playtime was over. Rhys’ claws fully extended, ripping apart his glove and revealing an inhuman hand. The skin was black and rough looking, leading up to five sharp talons.

He lunged for the hunter, aiming first to disable the arm holding the gun. His fangs had elongated further from when he had smiled, like they were a weapon hiding just under his skin. He hissed again, this time with rage. 

For half a second Jack’s eyes widened with genuine surprise. _Okay, so the vampire had a freaky mutated hand, that’s new_. Out of four limbs to choose from, Jack **had** to choose the freaky mutated one. 

He tried to fire another bullet but this one just grazed the vampire’s left shoulder. He gritted his teeth. At least he got him, but that wasn’t a good shot at all. He let himself hesitate with shock, and now, he was paying the price for it.

Rhys felt the bullet, but adrenaline kept him moving forward. " _Shit_ ,” he hissed then grabbed Jack's gun arm, sinking his talons into the soft flesh. He ripped open the skin, and held fast like a tick. Right now his best bet was staying close. With his other hand he moved to grab the gun, or at least knock it away. 

Jack grimaced. _Yep, that wound was going to be a bitch to deal with for the next few weeks._ However, the vampire miscalculated, and Jack pulled the knife he had hidden away in his non-dominant arm’s sleeve out. With the knife in his hand and the monster properly distracted with the gun he plunged the knife into the vampire’s back. 

Rhys yowled. He let go of Jack, switching to swatting the gun away with his taloned hand and using the other to grab the knife. He missed and temporarily backed off.

The vampire pulled the knife out of his back and threw it so it skid across the pavement. It hurt like a bitch, probably punctured a kidney, but nothing that wouldn't heal. 

Rhys knew the hunter's wounds would have more impact than his own. He lunged again, this time going in for a tackle. 

Jack was better prepared for the vampire’s next attack, gripping his gun as best he could despite that arm’s massive injury. _Fuck_ , he had to patch it up soon. He was losing blood fast and could only imagine how nuts that made the demon before him. 

But he still had his gun, and that was what was important as he shot the vampire square in the chest seconds before he got tackled to the ground. 

The bullet hit Rhys hard as he slammed into the hunter. He had already taken damage, and even though he just fed, he wasn’t regenerating fast enough. Each breath felt like being stabbed all over again.

Then the smell hit him. He hadn’t noticed before, but this Handsome Jack smelled... good... _really good._

His pupils dilated as he was drawn towards the source of the smell, the wound he had created.

His fangs already primed, he went to drink. 

Jack yelled an animalistic scream. He liked to think he had a high pain threshold. He was typically a big boy about these kinds of things, but his arm already hurt like a fucking bitch and did not need a _fucking vampire to suck on it_.

Jack thrashed back and forth trying to get the vampire off his arm, but his attempts were futile. With horror, he realized this demon was regenerating health by using his blood, and his bullets would have all been for nothing. As Jack grew weaker, the vampire only grew stronger. 

_“You are such an annoying piece of shit,"_ he grunted between his heavy breaths, _"just the absolute worst.”_

Rhys breathed deeply, the scent of Jack’s blood intermingling with the man’s regular scent. He was enveloped in that smell, escaping for a moment from the tension of the fight.

_Clink._ Rhys heard the bullet that had embedded itself in his chest get pushed out by the rapidly healing skin. Snapped out of his trance, he saw the hunter becoming paler under him. He pulled away, exhaling as if he had taken a long gulp from a water bottle. “I really am.” 

Rhys knew that if he hadn’t come to, he wouldn’t have stopped. Maybe there needed to be people like Handsome Jack around, people who would stop his kind. That didn’t change the fact that Rhys didn’t want to die. He grabbed the gun and chucked it up onto the nearby fire escape.

“I don’t want to kill you.” He stated firmly. 

Jack huffed, “you really dedicated to this ‘having morals’ act, huh?” He glanced sadly at his precious new gun that had been flung high beyond his reach. “Nah, you’re just fucking with me.” He chuckled; he clearly wasn’t the only one who liked to play with their victims before they died. 

He wheezed, still pinned down to the pavement by the vampire. He glanced at his arm and, _wow,_ that looked like total shit. “You think health insurance is going to cover this one, or would they just take one look at it and say go fuck yourself and your gore arm?”

Rhys couldn't help but laugh, his voice cracking with anxiety. "I don't think you could pay any insurance company in the world enough for your workplace hazards." His laugh quickly broke and he shook his head at Jack's denial. "Fine! Fine. Think of it this way, I don't think all your hunter friends would be very happy to find your rotting corpse. I've got a big enough target on my back just by _existing_ , thank you very much!" He flashed his fangs for emphasis.

"Besides..." Rhys wrapped his hand around Jack's throat, not pushing hard enough for the claws to draw blood, but just enough that they would prick. "I've got my own kind of insurance. If you don't want to die, you'll owe me." His blue eye glistened with the promise of power. 

Jack scowled and put as much venom as he could into the glare he bore into the vampire above him. He really did _not_ like this situation one bit, but what choice did he have? The monster’s claws were _literally wrapped around his neck._

“What is this? You asking me to make a deal with the devil here?” He croaked, finding it hard to breathe with the pressure placed on his throat. “You got a copy of the terms and conditions I could look over, or what?” He might be in a dire situation, but that didn’t mean he had lost his pride. If this idiot thought he was going to be a mess and beg for his life, he was gravely mistaken.

_"Look_ ," Rhys tightened his grip slightly, careful not to pierce skin. "You've lost a lot of blood already. I can just leave you here to bleed out, you know." He briefly turned his head away, a far off look in his eyes, before quickly regaining focus on Jack. "I've only done this kind of thing once before, so I can't really explain it that well. Here's the terms: I don't kill you and you owe me a favor. My conditions? You don't kill me." He ran his free hand through his disheveled hair. "Got all that or do you need me to talk slower?" 

Jack wanted to scream. He wanted nothing more than to reach up and tear this vampire apart limb from limb, to violently rip him open and watch life fade from his eyes as he finally _died_. The _audacity_ this creature had to do this to him! He deserved to die a violent and painful death for humiliating Handsome Fucking Jack like this. 

Rage boiled inside of him and it took every ounce of energy in him to not spit at the vampire and tell him that he and his stupid fucking deal can go to goddamn hell. 

But Jack had one fatal flaw: deep down, **he didn’t want to die.**

“ _Fine,_ ” he spat. Jack won't kill Rhys now, but he was sure there had to be a way to crack whatever demonic curse was being put on him. He’d crack it and then his violent vampire revenge murder fantasies would finally come to pass. “Now get the hell off me already,” he wheezed, struggling to breathe.

"Not yet. One last step...” the vampire leaned down toward Jack again, this time for a different target. Their faces inched closer, and connected. Rhys' cold lips locked with Jack's warm ones, as what felt like electricity danced through them both. The debt solidified heavy in their chests.

Jack’s eyes widened like saucers as the creature’s lips touched his own. The lips were cold as ice and there was a metallic taste to them. With disgust in his eyes Jack realized he was tasting the blood from _the dead body_ and the blood that _came from his own fucking arm_. Whatever enjoyment there was in the kiss, Jack ignored it entirely to focus on his blind rage. 

As quickly as it started it finished and Rhys pulled away. He spat on the ground as if tasting something vile. "Ever heard of a mint?" A lie, to protect his pride. 

His blue eye glowed yellow, then quickly faded to normal. The only evidence of the magic that had just occurred was the new bond between them.

“You didn’t fucking tell me there’d be a goddamn kiss involved!” Jack gagged the moment their lips separated. “Look, _I get it!_ I’m fucking sexy and everyone wants to get with me! It can be a blessing and a curse, doesn’t mean I want to kiss _you.”_ He spat along with the demon, except he spat on the demon and not towards the ground. 

Rhys grimaced as spit hit him right in the face. "Ugh! Seriously?" He swatted it off, frowning at Jack. Sure he would be upset in this scenario too, _but really_? 

Forcing himself to let it go, he remembered the hunter’s injuries. He looked down at his ruined shirt with a sigh and tore off a strip of fabric. Rhys had really liked this shirt.

Approaching cautiously, he moved to try and patch up Jack's arm. "Can you at least try to be civil so I can keep my end of the deal? Breaking debts is not another unpleasantness I want to add to tonight's mess." 

“Watching you get covered in my fucking spit is the only thing keeping me sane, freak.” Jack tried to get off the pavement himself, but he didn’t have the strength to sit up. He was losing way too much blood and his back immediately flopped back onto the pavement. 

The fate of whether he lived or died was in the hands of a fucking monster and there was _nothing_ he could do about it. 

He displayed his arm out in a way that welcomed the cloth to be placed on it. "I hope that shirt cost a million dollars.” He muttered. 

Rhys glowered at Jack’s comments. "Oh I'm _sorry,_ I take some pride in my clothing, unlike you apparently." He motioned to Jack's outfit before going to wrap the man’s arm.

He cleaned the claw marks as best as he could. "I can stop the bleeding but that's it. Luckily the other guy seemed clean, blood can carry some nasty surprises," he made a disgusted face, "and by nasty I mean sour."

_Wait, the vampire hunter probably wouldn't like him talking about blood tastes_. Realizing his faux pas, Rhys decided it’d be better to shut up as he finished dressing the wound. 

“This is what my life is now, isn’t it? Getting bandaged up by a soulless demon as he talks about how blood tastes.” Jack huffed and tried not to wince as the cloth made contact with his bare flesh. “Because I can tell you one thing: you put your nasty fucking lips on mine, and I got to say. Blood? Tastes disgusting, all of it. It’s like licking a piece of dirty rusting metal. You are a perverted little freak for enjoying it. Understand that, pumpkin?”

Jack eyed the knife that had skidded across the pavement. Maybe if he waited for the right opening... the right opportunity.... 

_That whole “debt” thing sounded like a load of horseshit anyway._

Rhys rolled his eyes at Jack’s attitude. "Oh excuse me, I don't control my biology. I do what I need to in order to survive. Do you have time to consider the cow every time you eat meat?" He pouted, then exhaled. "Sorry, I didn't mean people were cows or something like that, just a little on edge right now." He tightened the makeshift bandage and walked away from Jack. The hunter kept riling him up; the sooner he was free of the other man the better.

“No, I get it." The hunter spoke up, "you think of humans as sacks of meat, huh? You can try to deny it _all_ you like, but I heard you loud and clear. You see me as nothing more than a cow.”

Rhys rubbed his temples. “Look, it was just an expression. Don’t take it the wrong way.” He ran his hand through his hair again, straightening his clothes as best he could before turning back to Jack. "Well, since we aren't trying to kill each other anymore: It's Rhys. My name, that is." 

“Rhys, huh?” Jack said as he forced himself to stand up. He was seeing dark spots, but it’d pass, hopefully. “Took you long enough, cupcake. I half expected you to just not have a name. It’d be fitting for a... _thing,_ like you to not have a fucking name.”

Jack swayed on his feet and clutched his arm, but ultimately had to reach out and lean on the alleyway’s local dumpster in order to keep his balance. 

Rhys ignored the insult and walked over to the body he had been feeding on before the hunter arrived. He started searching the pockets. “Before you object, I don’t like this anymore than you do.” He pulled out the man’s wallet. 

Jack looked over to where Rhys was pick-pocketing the corpse and snorted, “like I’d give a shit about stealing from a dead man. Any sick loot? You better not keep that all to yourself, pumpkin. I got shit to pay for and this,” he held up his bandaged arm, “this isn’t going to pay for itself.” 

The vampire threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t get you. I thought hunter types were all champions of justice or whatever.” He turned and stared at the man. “You know, _Handsome Jack,”_ he spat, “you’ve really ruined my day.” Turning away, he focused his attention on unlatching the man’s fancy watch. 

“Is that what monsters think?” Jack grinned, “well, of course to monsters like you, you’d think we’re a bunch of saints. This is the first time you’ve actually had a conversation with an actual hunter, isn’t it?”

Jack eyed the knife on the ground. Rhys’ back was turned, if any time was his chance, it was now. 

As stealthily as Jack could, he inched his way over, leaned down, and picked the blade up with his good hand. “Just letting you know, hunters are a bunch of douche bags. Just the worst kind of people, believe me, I know.” 

The vampire paused his task for a second, pensive on this new information. “Yeah well, believe it or not, I try to avoid your sort. I like my head where it is.” Rhys chuckled nervously to himself. “I’ve got someone around here who’s trustworthy. Might be able to patch you up. Though I think they like money more than they like me.”

“Trustworthy? You see pumpkin, the funny thing about trustworthy people is they’re always the ones who end up stabbing you in the back,” Jack remarked. “I’ll be the judge of whether or not I trust them near my arm or not, mkay?” He pocketed his knife. As fun as lodging it in the vampire right now would be, he was too weak to put up any real fight. He’ll wait for the perfect opportunity once he was all healed up. 

Rhys continued fussing with the latch. “You seem like a watch guy. Is Maliwan worth anything? I thought they were a tech company, but I guess they’re making luxury watches now? Don’t keep up with that kind of thing.” 

Jack walked over to where Rhys was standing over the dead guy and glanced at the watch. “Well, if you ask me, that thing is a piece of shit. Maliwan is the kinda brand you get if you wanna look like a _major_ douche bag at parties. But yeah, sure, you can sell it for a good amount. That or use it as a door stopper or something, whatever works.” 

"Yeah?" Rhys finally managed the clasp, turning to see Jack. "Seems right up your alley then." He gave Jack a sneer, then frowned to himself. _Probably shouldn't antagonize the guy you just had a life or death fight with._ "Why don't you hold onto it, as your cut of the ‘loot’."

Rhys held out the watch to Jack with his right arm, his talons retracted to look more like normal nails, albeit sharp, coming out of the black leathery arm. He looked at it and muttered, "guess I need another glove too," before switching it with his left. 

“You really got quite a mouth on you, don’t you?” Jack snatched the watch from Rhys’ hand. “It’s pretty bold of you to call your hunter a douche bag, but lucky for you, I can appreciate a good moron when I see one.”

Jack got a good look at the arm and tried to feel disgusted by it. It was big, black, and gross after all, but now that it wasn’t immediately trying to kill him, there was something transfixing about the leathery texture and pitch black color. He’d never seen anything like it. 

He grabbed a hold of it, feeling the rough surface. “Wow, it’s even worse up close. You really live with this thing on the daily? I’d just kill myself if I had one. Have you ever considered doing that? Committing suicide? You should try it sometime, I hear it’s a fun time for the whole family.” 

Rhys instantly tensed up, feeling his talons instinctively start to unsheathe. He hissed, pulling away from Jack. _"What the hell is wrong with you?_ What, you think I _wanted_ all this to happen?!” He quickly pocketed everything he had taken from the corpse and started making long strides out of the alley, not bothering to check if Jack was following. “Let’s just get this over with so we can go our separate ways. The sooner you leave me the hell alone, the better.” 

He gripped his right arm with his human one, anxiety and shame bubbling in his chest. 

“Hang on just a second, cupcake. Where do you think you’re going?” Jack did his best to catch up to Rhys, ignoring the black spots in his vision and the way the world swam around him. He reached out and tugged on a piece of fabric on Rhys’ clothing. “You really think we’re going to be leaving without grabbing my gun? Honey, you don’t just leave expensive items like that laying on fire escapes, dumdum.”

He vaguely pointed up at the fire escape. “If you really are serious about this debt or whatever, you better go get that for me. Because I can't, you know,” He waved his injured arm in front of Rhys. “Look I can’t do it myself so... just get the damn weapon already because I’m not leaving without it!” 

“Ugh. Right. Forgot.” Rhys glanced up at the fire escape. He hated heights, but it didn’t look like Jack was budging on this.

He reached for the ladder, slowly ascending one rung at a time trying not to look down. He’d survived his share of tumbles, but it still hurt. He reached the top and examined the firearm.

Jack was right; it _was_ a pretty nice gun. Rhys put it in his back pocket and climbed back down. 

“Nice going princess. Really retrieved my shit like a champ. Don’t let it get too comfortable in your pocket like that, hand it over to papa like a good boy.” Jack said, holding his hand out for the gun. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay on his feet till his legs would give out or he’d pass out, but he refused to think too hard about that. Through sheer force of will, he would _not_ let himself pass out in front of monster scum. _Nope, not gonna happen._

Rhys gave Jack a bewildered expression. “How stupid do you think I am? You literally just told me not to trust you.” He patted his pocket. “Our deal extends to you and me, maybe I’ll give it back once we’re out of shooting range of my allies. Think you can stand being apart from it that long?” He grinned and continued his stride that was interrupted earlier. 

"Oh _come on_ cupcake! Its my gun for fuck’s sake." Jack grumbled and ran after Rhys, reaching out for his pocket. "Stop playing around and just hand it back already, didn't you make some weird debt thingie happen and make me promise not to kill you or whatever? Come on, be a good little vampire and release the damn thing!" 

He kept trying to grab the gun but Rhys' strides were too fast and Jack's vision was too hazy.... gods he felt... really tired...

"The terms were very specific," Rhys kept up a brisk pace, "you live, I live. I'm not taking any chances on you finding loopholes." He knew his long stride made it difficult for people to keep up with him. He took pleasure in whatever discomfort this brought to Jack.

"Listen, I want you to be polite when we get there. These are not the type of people who will put up with you telling them to kill themselves." Rhys glared back at Jack, finally noticing the state of the other man. He tried to hide his worry. "Hey, don't you dare pass out on me now. We just have to make it there and I am NOT carrying you." 

"Who the hell is passing out? Not me. Handsome Jack doesn't just..." His eye lids were extremely heavy and he felt them drooping, "pfft, who’s passing… not me… I don't just-" 

Jack's legs finally gave out and he felt himself begin to fall as his vision went black. 

_Shit._ Rhys urgently slid on the concrete towards the falling hunter like a pro-baseball player.

He just barely caught Jack before the man hit the ground, the other man's face pale from his injuries. _"Shit shit shit,"_ he ignored the fresh sting of his new scrapes and lifted Jack princess style.

With all his might, Rhys started to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me at twitter @ [rhysbaii](https://twitter.com/rhysbaII) (the iis are capital so it looks like rhysball) along with my coauthor on tumblr at [iloverhysborderlands ](https://iloverhysborderlands.tumblr.com/) woooooo come talk to us another chapter will come out in either a few days or a week so look forward to that


	2. Chapter 2

When Rhys arrived with Jack in his arms, he pounded at the door; no response. Luckily, he knew where the spare key was hidden and let himself in. He dumped Jack's still body on the couch and rummaged through the cupboards, looking for _anything_ that might be helpful.

He returned with a first aid kit, rubbing alcohol, and a book titled "Sawbones, Medicine, and You." After he quickly checked the index to find the section on animal attacks _(_ _close enough, right?_ _)_ he began to work.

He pressed the back of his hand against Jack's forehead, warm against Rhys' eternal cold. No fever, meaning no infection. Good. He peeled off the makeshift bandage and swore to himself. The bleeding still hadn't stopped; no wonder the hunter had passed out. 

He gulped as he pulled out the surgical thread. Sewing clothes was one thing, sewing people’s skin back together was a different matter entirely. It wasn't like he had a choice. Very carefully following the instructions, he started stitching the man back up.

Flesh connected to flesh, slowly but steadily.

When Rhys finally finished, he was exhausted and hurting, but satisfied with his work. He sat down on the armchair opposite Jack, watching the steady rise and fall of the hunter’s chest. Up and down... up and down.

* * *

When Jack woke up, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and took in his surroundings. _Okay, so he was in a house of some kind..._ he blinked again and registered the sight in front of him.

He was on someone's couch. The lights were dim, the curtains closed, and a first aid kit was sprawled out on the coffee table in front of him.

His hunt, Rhys, was in an armchair on the other side of the table. His eyes were closed, head held in his human hand while he drooled slightly.

Wherever they were, it was quiet... and somewhat cozy feeling.

The vampire Jack failed to kill really was asleep in front of him. _How stupid was this dude?_ It took all of his energy to not laugh about it. The monster really just carried a hunter all the way to his little monster den, nursed him back to health, and just fell asleep.

He moved his hands and grinned at how they were free. No restraints or anything! What kinda rookie mistake is that? Everyone knew you never let a guest into your house without properly tying them up first! It was simply one of the rules Jack lived by after all of the betrayals in his life.

He wondered how far he could test his luck. He reached into his pocket and... he couldn't hide his giggling anymore. He had to put a hand over his mouth to control his volume. _This fucking_ _dumbass!_ _Didn't even bother to check if he had_ _weapons in his pockets!_

This was too damn easy. This vampire was simply _asking_ to get murdered at this point! He unsheathed his blade as stealthily as he could before he got up from the couch and made his way towards the armchair.

He held the knife above the vampire's throat and chuckled darkly, but not loud enough to wake him.

"Oh Rhysie, you absolute idiot..." he whispered, "you are going to be both the easiest kill ever, and the most satisfying kill ever, all at the same time. _I'm so excited to see your fucking guts."_

Jack pushed the blade into his throat just to realize... It wasn't working. _What the hell?_ He frowned and tried pushing harder. There was.... some kind of force preventing the knife from puncturing the skin. 

"What the hell is going on?" He spat with frustration, losing his temper and no longer caring how loud he was. He was putting all his weight into pressing, but no matter what he did, the stupid fucking knife _wouldn't puncture the damn skin_.

A second later Rhys’ eyes popped open to a knife at his throat. He instinctively yelped and kicked away, knocking the chair he was sitting in backwards. 

Once he got his wits about him, he was furious. All that effort he put in to help the hunter... _whatever._ Rhys shouldn't have been so surprised.

He quickly shot to his feet, keeping distance between the two. "Sit. Your injured ass down. Before I _make_ you." 

_" How can I si t my ass down when my knife is broken like this?!”_ Jack swung at Rhys violently, but once again, nothing broke skin. "Get back over here sweetie!" He yelled, walking around the fallen arm chair in an attempt to corner Rhys. “I know this is freaky, but hold tight as I figure out what the hell is going on here. I gotta try one more time, I _know_ I can break skin if I try hard enough!" He jabbed the knife at Rhys again. "Come on! _Work dammit! "_

The vampire couldn’t help but flinch even as the knife did no damage. “What part of _magical vampire deal_ did you not understand?!” He yelled at Jack. 

Rhys did not like being woken up. He didn’t care if it was for breakfast in bed or a handsome partner just _begging_ to be bitten. He certainly did not like waking up to the man he had ran through the streets and tirelessly tried to save attempting to kill him. Again.

“Handsome Jack,” Rhys spat the name, “I swear if you rip out any of your stitches, magical contracts be damned, I will find some way to kill you.” He pointed a taloned finger at the couch. “Sit. Down.” 

Jack didn’t budge. “Yeah, no, it’s not like you're a freaking witch or whatever, that spell can't be _that_ strong. There's gotta be away around this..." 

He grabbed the hand Rhys pointed with and tried to stab it one last time. Once again, nothing happened, and he pouted. "This... isn't permanent, right?" Jack held up the knife and squinted, studying it to make double sure there wasn't anything wrong with the blade itself.

Rhys snorted, “no, once the debt is repaid the magic is gone, _but_ _!_ I don’t intend on cashing in anytime soon. Hopefully once I know you aren’t dying, then we’ll never see each other again.” He yanked his arm free, “and would you quit with the arm grabbing? It’s getting annoying.”

As if Handsome Jack would let his hunt get away so easily _._ "Hate to break the news to you but that’s not gonna happen. You aren't getting rid of me anytime soon pumpkin, not when you've personally humiliated me like this." Jack growled, "call me stubborn, but there’s no way I’m leaving without you being in a goddamn body bag."

Rhys went to fix the chair that he’d toppled over. “Good luck with that. We don’t like to advertise it, but a debt isn’t something you can worm your way out of. Guess there’s more to that ‘manipulation’ then my good looks huh?” He vainly ran a hand through his hair. 

Jack eyeballed Rhys a bit closer. "You aren't handsome, that’s my thing. Your arm however?" He tilted his head, “That's what's really going to make sticking with you till you're dead worth it. That baby has gotta be worth a shit ton. Gonna be _really_ satisfying tearing that thing off you and selling it to the highest bidder."

That comment made Rhys uneasy. He didn’t like the idea of being sold for parts, or the way the hunter was looking at his arm, but he stood his ground. "Good luck tearing anything off when that knife of yours can't even cut. Unless you plan on talking me to death, you're out of luck. My arms are staying where they are." 

Attempting to change the subject, Rhys motioned to Jack's arm. "Speaking of, how's your torn up arm? I find gore usually takes away from the handsomeness factor. I’m **_so_** _sorry_ if I scared off any would be suitors." He was also somewhat curious how his stitch job was healing, a little pride in his amateurish work. Rhys suddenly realized he didn't know how long they were asleep for. Glancing at the clock, it was nearing sunset again. Had he really slept so soundly with a murderer across from him?

Jack sneered, "haha, you’re a godsend to comedy. Joke’s on you kiddo, no matter what you did to my arm, there’s enough people out there into guro to make up for any damages." 

He sat back down on the couch and idly twirled the knife in his fingers. He watched the light reflect off the blood stained blade that still remembered when it could pierce the skin of a certain vampire. "Nice of you to give a shit about my sex life, but this badass arm is only going to improve things for me from here on out." 

Rhys flushed a little at that remark. "I don't care about your sex life," he protested, "just thought you'd be more protective of the handsome brand." _Who the hell titles themselves handsome anyway? What a douche._

He started making a plan. Find a way to sneak off after sunset and then beg Fiona for forgiveness if Jack decided to trash the place. The hunter seemed healthy enough if he was cracking jokes. It wasn't safe to stay in one place for too long, and anywhere with Jack was definitely unsafe.

Despite his caution, Rhys couldn't help but snark back. "Think people will find it badass when they find out you didn't win the fight?”

Jack stopped twirling the knife and pursed his lips. "You got me there kid, really _pissed_ me off how you did that. But, I'm not too worried about it. Not like you can tell anyone shit with me watching over you like a hawk till you finally return to Hell."

Rhys frowned, "don't call me kid." He knew he looked young, but he hated being patronized. "Besides, what are you gonna do? Stab me?" His eyes lingered on the knife in Jack's hands. "Yeah, let me know how that goes." 

“I’ll call you whatever I want! You should be throwing a party whenever I’m not saying the word ‘freak’ _kiddo.”_ Jack pocketed the knife, finally getting bored of it. “Anyways, I’m starving. I know you’re monster scum but you gotta have _something_ to eat in this shithole.” He got up and began hunting for the kitchen, which, thankfully, didn’t take awfully long to find. 

The vampire followed after and leaned against the wall outside the kitchen, a watchful eye trained on Jack. "Wouldn't know, it's not my house. Just clean up after yourself unless you want the wrath of a couple of _real_ monsters."

Rhys smiled to himself, wondering what the girls were up to. Ever since they started hanging around that witch he'd been seeing them less and less. At least they were in good hands; he doubted anyone could take down Athena.

"Or don't. See if I care." He tried to sound casual, but if Jack left a mess Rhys would absolutely get the blame for it. 

“Couple of monsters?” Jack raised an eyebrow looking back at him, he then grinned. “You didn’t tell me I could be getting a two for one deal on the monster hunting game tonight.” 

Jack then looked Rhys dead in the eye, grabbed a random plate, and _threw it on the ground._

With a crash the plate shattered into a million pieces, the shards scattered across the kitchen floor.

"What the _FUCK!"_ Rhys shrieked in horror, "what is your problem? Are you twelve years old or something?!" 

“AHAHAHAHA!” Jack cackled, “oh the look on your face _, GOLDEN!_ Knew you were all talk about not giving a shit about the mess.” Finally, he was having fun; he had to get his kicks somewhere after the shit he went through just yesterday. 

Rhys rushed to grab a broom. "You _better_ fucking pay for that, Jack." Great, just what Rhys needed: to have to pay the girls more money! Seriously, this couldn't get any better. 

He quickly navigated to the cleaning supplies, then paused. Jack was distracted, so there was no reason to hurry and wait on him. 

Shifting priorities Rhys looked down at his new shirt. _Had he seriously slept in this? Ugh._ He peeled off his ruined clothes with sadness and quickly replaced it with the spare outfit Fiona let him keep in her closet. It was his light blue button up and black pants; comfy, but sharp. Rhys finished by pulling on a pair of gloves.

While Jack waited for Rhys to get back he opened the fridge and scoured through it. The food was... weirdly normal for what was meant to be a monster’s home. Yogurt, meat, fish, milk, and pop cans sat scattered across the shelves. The food was almost _too_ normal for comfort. It put him on edge with paranoia about where the catch could be....

When Rhys decided his outfit was good enough for now, he reentered the kitchen with a broom. “Please don’t tell me you broke anything else when I walked away.” 

The sight Rhys came back to involved Jack in the middle of preforming surgery on a _fucking apple_ _,_ cutting it into really small pieces, and then examining them as closely as possible. 

“You know Rhysie, I don’t even like apples, but I _feel_ like they’d be the food that would be easiest to identify as cursed.” He muttered, rotating a slice in his hands, peeling the skin off and examining underneath it. “Would you agree? You’re the monster here so you tell me.”

_“' Rhysie’?”_ Rhys squinted. _Guess it was better than kid_. “Have you never read a fairy tale? The apple is always cursed somehow.” He gave a half-hearted shrug. “Wouldn’t mind you being put under a sleeping spell if it meant you’d stop causing me problems.” Rhys gave Jack a pointed look as he went to sweep up the broken plate. 

“Exactly! _That’s_ why it’s easiest to figure out if it’s cursed or not, and if this apple is cursed, then I can assume everything here is cursed and find some food elsewhere.” Jack kept playing with the apple for another minute before giving up. He wasn’t getting anywhere playing with his food like a five year old. 

Jack then looked down at Rhys, who had knelt down to pick up the plate shards, and noted the change in the vampire’s outfit. It looked... pretty good all things considered. Really hot actually, pristine and classy but without being too formal, but like hell would he admit to thinking that.

“Don’t forget to cut yourself down there. Oh, by the way, if you don’t tell me if this shit is safe or not I’ll smash another plate.” Jack’s eyes found another plate sitting on the counter and he grabbed it. “Don’t think I won't, kitten.”

Rhys growled, quickly tossing the broken china into the trash bin. He picked up one of Jack’s tiny apple pieces and put it in his mouth. He made a point to very obviously chew before spitting it out. 

“Seems like a normal, bland apple to me. Ugh, why would I put up with your crap just to poison you?”

“That's what they all say! And then BAM! Next thing you know the coffee you got from your very best friend is a mug full of poison." Jack rolled his eyes, "if the food here is safe after-all, then what kind of monster _does_ live here?” Jack asked, “there’s only so much mystery a guy can handle without losing his damn mind!” 

Rhys plopped down into one of the kitchen chairs, crossing his long legs. “I don’t really think my friends would appreciate me spilling their secrets to you. If it makes you feel any better, last I checked there weren’t any bounties out for them.” He smoothed out his shirt while he talked, “though I get the feeling that won’t stop you. So we aren’t staying long enough to meet them anyway. I would _appreciate_ if you didn’t waste all night playing with apples.” 

“You are absolutely right it won't stop me. You have any idea what kinda rewards there are just for selling your people’s organs?” He whistled, “for instance: I originally wanted to kill you to take your fangs and sell ‘em. Now that I learn you have some ultra rare magic demon arm from Hell, well, that changes things.” Jack paused, thought about his appetite, and finally said ‘fuck it’ and took a bite from an apple slice. “Whatever your friends are, it doesn’t matter if there isn't a bounty,” he said through a mouthful of apple, “monster organs are where the real money is at.” 

Rhys locked his fingers together, nervously playing with his gloves. _Is that what hunters were actually about? Some black market organ sales?_ He knit his brows together, scowling in disgust, “and you call me a monster.” 

At least there was a reason for hunters to be after Rhys. He fed on humans, stole their belongings to survive. Some of the supernaturals he met, though, were just people trying to live normal lives.

“They’re good people and I don’t want you hurting them. We clear out of here tonight.” 

Jack scrunched up his nose, “Rhysie, you fail to take into account that maybe I don't _wanna_ clear out of here tonight.” He opened the cupboards, finally letting himself go ape shit. He was fucking starving. “You have any idea how long its been since I had some decent food???” He asked as he poured some cereal straight from the box and right down his throat. “Hunting your irritating ass left zero time or money for grub; gods this is good.” 

“What happened to your so called manners?” Rhys slammed the cupboard shut, “just grab something to bring with you, we can stop at a diner or something.”

Rhys paused for a moment. _Was he really gonna spend money feeding this dick?_ He didn’t like it, but he needed to get him out of here. He couldn’t risk anything happening to one of his few safe spots. There would be other chances to shake him later.

“Besides, I’m leaving tonight, and I’m taking your fancy gun with me.” Rhys smirked, knowing that would grab Jack’s interest. 

“A diner you say?” Jack lowered the cereal box and eyed Rhys. “Well, now you’re speaking my language.” He grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge and chugged it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Don’t worry about that part. I can always come back and kill them later.” He lowered the empty pop-can. “Ahh, that was good. Really hit the spot!” 

Rhys huffed, then shook his head while walking out of the kitchen. It wasn’t worth arguing with this _psycho_. “The sun is nearly set now. “Finish up in there, quickly please.” He grabbed a few things and stuffed them in a travel bag. Carefully, making sure Jack wasn’t looking, he removed the gun from its hiding spot and tucked it underneath. “Don’t wanna waste any moonlight.”

“I get that you like night time and all, but… we should travel during the day when you think about it. Your skin is in desperate need of some vitamin D, it’s really sad.” Jack chuckled and grabbed an extra pop can and threw it at Rhys, expecting him to put it in the bag. 

Rhys was not expecting to have a can of soda thrown at him. It thwacked against his head, hitting the ground and rolling away harmlessly. "Ow!" He rubbed the spot where it hit, glaring towards Jack.

Jack snickered at the look on Rhys’ face after the can hit him. So he couldn’t stab him because that’d be lethal, but throwing cans and shit is apparently seen as just fine. _Interesting,_ he’d have fun with this information.

"Can you go like five seconds without telling me to kill myself? Thanks." Rhys pulled out a wad of cash and left it on the coffee table. They'd understand an apology when they saw one. 

“No can do kiddo, suicide baiting is part of my charm.” Jack spotted a chocolate bar on the side of the counter and he couldn’t help but salivate at the sight. He grabbed it and immediately began scarfing it down as well. “Gods, your monster friends really know good chocolate when they see it.” It tasted expensive too. He smirked, thinking about how pissed off they’d be to realize half their food had been stolen from them.

Jack walked out of the kitchen and grabbed the can from off the ground. “Anyways, put this shit in your bag already if you are _so_ excited to leave already. Let’s get movin’ cupcake!” 

Rhys snatched the can from Jack’s hand and shoved it in with his things. He hoisted the travel pack onto his shoulder. 

“‘Charm’, sure.” Rhys grumbled, then did a once over of the house. Jack had left the kitchen in a sorry state, but it would have to do for now. “Well… no time like the present.” He opened the front door to the newly darkened city. The house opened into an alleyway, almost like someone was trying to hide it from view. Rhys motioned for Jack to head out. 

Jack followed along and took note of where they were. “Alright, an alleyway. Just like where we were before hand. Probably still in Promethea, duly noted...” 

He closed the door behind him and immediately regretted it when it disappeared.

“Aw what the hell?!” He banged his fists against the wall. “You can’t be fucking serious right now! _Magic door?_ _Really?_ Is nothing easy anymore? GOD DAMMIT.” Well, this was going to complicate Jack's plans to come back and murder these monsters at a later date. Complicate them a _whole lot_.... 

Rhys grinned, amused at Jack’s frustration. “Are you going to keep throwing your tantrum or can we get going?” It looked like whatever Athena was teaching the sisters was paying off. He hadn’t even noticed the spell on his way in. 

  
“I’ll... figure out a way in... _eventually._ ” Jack grumbled after finally giving up on smacking the wall. “Did I ever mention how much I hate magic? Because I do, a lot.” He eyeballed the bag Rhys was carrying. _His gun must be in there..._ “Anyway, lead the way to the diner. Papa’s gotta eat!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rhys is a big dumb bitch and i hate him
> 
> expect new chapters on thursdays or fridays wooooo seeya


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update but in my defense; me and my co-author are now dating and have been very distracted by being gay and stuff.

Rhys turned on his heel and began a steady pace towards the diner. Now that they had left the house, he realized that there was no reason to stick around. He started making long strides, weaving in and out of alleyways with practiced ease. Promethea was the closest he had to a home. No matter how far he traveled, Rhys always found himself returning here. It helped that he made friends along the way.

He made sure to take every single tricky shortcut, weave through every crowd. No matter what though, Jack was always only a step behind. He seemed to be hardly breaking a sweat even though Rhys was trying his damn hardest to shake the hunter. At one point he even jumped a fence, hoping to gain a lead with his eternally youthful body. The man was unfazed.

As Jack followed behind the vampire he chuckled with delight at the obvious irritation. Maybe he didn't have to kill Rhys right right away; he was kinda fun to mess around with. The little pout on his face when he failed to lose Jack time and time again, the little growling noises of irritation... it was delightful, really!

However, there was only so much screwing around they had time for in one night. "Alright cupcake, I know you’re enjoying this little game of tag we got going on, but what’s the damn hold up? Are we there yet, or are you just gonna keep teasing me by running around in circles all night? It’s a dick move on your part, truly." 

It was annoying. Why the hell was this hunter so persistent? Rhys growled slightly to himself in frustration, his fangs slightly unsheathing with instinct. Quickly realizing his mistake, he forced himself to calm down. There would be other chances. Now that lives weren't on the line, he had all the time in the world. 

Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah... it's just around the corner now." He sighed, feeling somewhat defeated, taking on an easier pace.

Their destination quickly came into view. The diner was lit up, warm and bright with neon lettering advertising 24 hour breakfast on the windows. Through the glass it appeared that dinner rush had just ended. Most of the seats had emptied out, staff bustling to and fro to clean up.

The Lectra Diner had been serving customers longer than Rhys had been alive. Though he couldn't eat, he would come here for coffee every now and again. It gave off a calm atmosphere, extending an invite to all creatures of the night to put aside their burdens and sit for a while. How many of those were actual creatures was a question out of the mind when there was a nice warm meal to be had.

Rhys pushed the door open with the familiar _ding a-ling_ of the bell. The smell of fresh roasted coffee beans and pancakes instantly hit Rhys' sensitive nose; if he could have one normal meal again, it would have to be here.

Jack followed and whistled as he took the sights in. "Gotta say, for a horrible monster, you got pretty adorable tastes. A 50s dinner? _Really?"_

Rhys ignored him, and the waitress busing tables gave them a polite smile while nodding at the "Seat Yourself" sign. He motioned Jack to follow as he walked back to a quiet corner booth, and sat down in the seat against the wall.

Jack slid down in the seat across. "Bet it makes you feel real nostalgic. How old are you anyway? How long have you outran death?" he asked casually, crossing his legs and looking up and down the menu. 

Jack’s mouth was watering just looking over the possibilities. Gods, he missed having a good meal. He _deserved_ this break before he inevitably went on the road again to hunt whatever creature needed to be hunted next.

The waitress quietly placed two porcelain mugs and a coffeepot at their table before she headed back to her other tasks. Rhys took his time to answer as he reached for one of the mugs and poured himself a cup. Steam lazily rose from the hot coffee.

Rhys smiled softly while tracing the rim of the mug with his finger. His guard had been left at the door. "It's hard to keep track of the exact number, but it's been about twenty years now. Since I was turned, that is." He didn't bother looking at the menu. Not like he could eat anything anyway. 

“Wait a second, _twenty years?”_ Jack narrowed his eyes. The gears turned in his head and it was painting a picture he wasn’t sure he liked. 

He lowered his menu and looked the other man in the eyes. Rhys appeared to be about... somewhere in his twenties, approximately. Just an attractive young man with brown hair, mismatched eyes and abnormally pale skin. If it was two decades ago that he got turned... and Jack was in his mid-forties... then....

“Exactly _how_ old are you, pumpkin?” He asked, though he had a feeling he knew what the answer was going to be.

Rhys began tearing at the sugar packets to mix into his drink. “Have to be in my forties by now. Kind of a shame, I think I would’ve aged nicely. Though...” he refused to shy away from the hunter’s gaze as he sneered. “I don’t mind missing out on the wrinkles that come with it.”

As Rhys stared down Jack, he made a realization. With all hostility before, he hadn’t noticed that he really _did_ live up to the Handsome title. Rhys could definitely appreciate those broad shoulders and square jawline. The v-shaped scar only added to the rugged look, selling that tough guy persona.

If Rhys didn’t know Jack was a massive dick, he might have been really into him. _Huh_. 

Jack glared right back at the vamp. It sure sucked how this little shit was the same age as him yet _looked like that_ . With his stupid, beautiful, clear, wrinkle-free skin and his stupid bright eyes that just _screamed_ of youth. Fucking monsters, looking hot forever like that. He tried to shove aside any attraction he felt towards the man, reminding himself the fucker had cheated in order to look like that. 

Rhys calmly reached for his cup, bringing it to his lips while he stubbornly kept up their little game of dominance. 

“Well, I age like fine wine.” Jack said and ran a hand through his hair. “The wrinkles add to the charm, princess. Ever heard of a DILF? Because that’s what I am. One hundred percent... pure, DILF.” 

Rhys let out an undignified snort, causing some of the drink to go down the wrong way. He started coughing and laughing in-between his coughs. This laugh wasn't like the pointed taunting laughter from before, but a genuine one that matched the warmth of the diner.

He wasn't sure why he found it so funny. Just something about the way Jack phrased it, or maybe the stress had driven him crazy.

Jack couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own. He wasn’t exactly trying to be all that funny, since he was smoking hot, but Rhys had a cute laugh for a vampire. 

That and watching him choke was completely worth it. 

Rhys realized the scene he caused and quickly recovered his composure, clearing his throat with slight embarrassment. "So, a ‘DILF’ huh?” He started, taking the attention back to the conversation. “You've got the look down. I think you have to be a ‘dad’ first to be a DILF." 

Jack finally set the menu down, having made his decision. “Who are you to assume I’m not a dad? Seriously Rhysie, quit making assumptions about people you just met. Makes things embarrassing for all parties when you get your facts horribly wrong.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows, skeptical. "Really? You? A dad?" He shook his head, "I'll believe it when I see it. No offense, but you don't seem like a family man."

He tried to picture Handsome Jack, ruthless hunter, holding an infant. _Yeah, no, definitely did not fit the man's image._

Jack grunted, annoyed. “You know who you’d be best friends with? The ex-wife. You two would get along _great.”_

He glared at the waitress who was waiting other tables. _Can she hurry it up already?_ Jack was _starving_ and he wasn’t a patient person. He debated standing up and pestering her himself. 

"You were married? Someone seriously was able to tolerate you enough to marry you?" Rhys snickered and went to sip his coffee. "Well, maybe there's hope for the rest of us after all." It had been a long time since he had thought about romance and marriage. When he was younger, sure, but things became a bit more complicated after, _well, everything_.

Once the waitress felt Jack's death glare on her back she rushed over. "Are you two ready to order?"

Rhys gave a slight closed mouth smile to the waitress. "I'm just having coffee, thanks though." He turned to Jack. "Go ahead, you can't really go wrong with anything here." 

“Alright, now make sure to write this down right because I’m not one to repeat myself.” Jack snapped, before taking a deep breath. “I want a cheeseburger, one of your classic kinds but don’t make it shitty. Tomatoes, ketchup, mustard and if you forget the pickles I'll leave a shit review. No onions, onions are for children being forced to eat well by their parents. Also, Bring extra fries on the side. _Extra_.” 

Jack took out the milkshake menu and glared at it. “Though, I'm already going to leave a shit review for the lack of interesting flavors on this thing! No Oreo? _Really?”_ He threw it down. “Whatever, just get me a chocolate milkshake with whip cream and a cherry on top. If you forget to bring the leftovers in a separate cup, you can forget about that tip pumpkin. Got all that?”

The waitress trembled as she listened to Jack’s demands before giving a quick nod and hurried off. Jack smirked; being mean to minimum wage workers was a great way to let off steam. 

“Anyways, what were we talking about again?” Jack asked as he leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms.

Rhys cringed for the unfortunate waitress. "I think I can guess why you got divorced." He remembered exactly who he was sitting across from: the dick that had tried to kill him last night. "You really didn't have to be so mean to her. What are you, some spoiled rich kid?" He leaned against his hand, looking quizzically at Jack. "I mean... your current, ah, _profession_ pays well. But you can't tell me you've never struggled to make ends meet before." 

Rhys didn’t read Jack as the silver spoon type, but then again, this was Handsome Jack. The whole dad thing caught him completely off guard. Who knew what other surprises the man had? 

“Pfft, trust me, I _wish_ I was a spoiled rich kid; would make life a hell of a lot easier.” Jack paused, thinking for a second about his childhood. The idea of him being a spoiled rich kid was laughable. Being a kid was all kinds of hell and he was glad it was over. 

“And it pays decent enough, sure.” Enough to pay child support, not enough to pay for what he really wanted. That was a whole other thing. “Maybe I just like being mean to customer service? They’re paid to be nice after all, it’s funny to watch them squirm. Try it sometime, it can really help brighten a shitty day.”

Rhys sank into his seat, exasperated. "All you're doing is spreading unpleasantness, Jack. I've been in their shoes, you do _not_ get paid enough for the shit people give you. Sometimes it's simply the best job you can get. ‘Sides, they might spit in your food for revenge." He let out an amused scoff. "That might be easier to understand than common decency for you." 

Jack shrugged, “what did a little spit do to upset anybody? Nothing, they can't do anything to actually harm me.” A mischievous look reentered his face. “Why do you care so much about the staff here, anyway? They're all just walking juice boxes to you. You trying to butter up your prey by being nice before you snap your trap on them or what?” 

Rhys scowled at the comment. "Is it too much to want to be able to have a coffee without everyone hating me?" He was tired of the hunter poking at him, and decided to poke back. 

"Why don't we get back to our earlier topic; so you're a dad, huh? How the hell does that work with your line of work? Must make ‘bring your child to work day’ awkward, what with the murder and all that." He flashed a sly grin, teeth and all, as he carefully studied Jack's expression.

He needed to be reminded that Rhys was the one who won their fight. That he wasn't just another kill. The vampire leaned in close. "I bet it's a girl; I'm right, aren't I?" 

Jack’s eye twitched at the sight of Rhys’ fangs. “You threatening my child, little demon?” He gritted his teeth and leaned in as well, fighting for dominance. “Because I’ll have you know that's a fast track ticket straight to having your death be long... slow... and _painful.”_

His eyes glared daggers into the vampire. Jack could poke fun at just about everything, but his daughter was a topic that was not to be touched.

"Death, huh?" Rhys refused to budge, refused to flinch. "Last I checked, you couldn't kill me." He relished the fire burning in Jack's eyes. "It was a nice threat while it lasted though."

Finally, _finally,_ Rhys found a way to get back at him. "You know, I don't normally target children; not really my style. For you, though, I think I could make an exception." He thrummed the fingers of his right hand against the table. Though gloved, there came the muffled clacking of talon on tabletop. 

Rhys lowered his voice, soft, and promising danger. "I wonder what her blood would taste like?" 

Once again, this _bastard_ was making Jack want to _scream_ . The hunter’s heart pounded in his chest, and his temper was nearly impossible to control. The vamp was crossing boundaries that weren’t meant to be crossed. If the two of them weren’t in public and surrounded by strangers who would definitely pull out their phones and record this, Jack might have put the _“i_ __t’s im_ possible to kill Rhys” _ magic to the test again. 

“You’ll never find her.” His words shook and were not nearly as stable as Jack needed them to be. “I’ve got her hidden away far from here... nice and safe from monsters like _you.”_

He swallowed, blood roaring in his ears. He glared into the brown and blue eyes in front of him, hating the mischievous gleam in them. This bitch was toying with him, pressing his buttons. Jack knew, it was a tactic he himself used on a daily basis. Didn’t mean it doesn’t suck to be on the receiving end of it. 

Meanwhile Jack's heartbeat was almost like thunder in Rhys’ ears, pumping blood in reaction to the anger and fear. The blood that just the night before Rhys had drank. He could almost taste it.

Right now, Jack's blood was in _Rhys’ veins_ , nourishing _Rhys’ body_. This man who hated vampires so much, Rhys couldn't help but grin ear to ear. This is how it should be. He should be the one in control.

"Oh Jack..." He purred, lavishing in the emotions that flashed across the hunters face. "Don't you remember? I have all the time in the world." 

Rhys struggled to keep his instincts under control. Almost like he was hypnotized by that booming heartbeat, by the scent of Jack's fear. "What's a little trek if it tastes as good as yours?" _Now this could be fun._

Jack _hated_ this. The monster was looking at him like he was a fucking snack he was two seconds away from biting into. His eyes darted to Rhys’ fangs, and with disgust, he realized they were extending. It wasn’t too extreme and Jack doubted the vampire even noticed it was happening. But there they were, perfectly elongating teeth, as if the fucker was _drooling_ in anticipation. 

It made Jack _sick_. If he could slow his heart rate, he would gladly have done so. 

But he couldn’t let the fucker win. What might look like a casual night out to the other restaurant-goers was actually part of an intense psychological battle, happening right before their eyes.

“You aren’t the only one with time,” Jack breathed, his mouth a thin, hard line. “I will follow you till the day you die. I don’t care how long it takes. I don't care what magic ‘debt’ is on me, I will keep you in line. You are not _ever_ coming anywhere near my baby girl; not when I’m around to protect her. So wipe your smile off your face, you repulsive creature.”

Rhys couldn't back down now. It was like everything in his body was telling him to attack, be it words or fists. The frustration he pushed aside flared up as his smile fell, his teeth now barred.

He spared this man, he ran exposed through the city to try to save his life, he tended to his wounds, and now he was feeding him. And Jack... Jack was just _the absolute worst_.

Jack spent the whole time fucking _pushing_ Rhys. He wasn't some toy, he was a goddamn vampire. He'd been fighting tooth and nail to survive for twenty odd years and some cocky hunter wasn't going to break that streak. 

He growled. "Are you really okay with that? You'll never see your little girl again. I know I wouldn't be, and I don't think you are either. No, I think at some point, you'll slip up, and I'll find her. You can try and stop me but..." His body screamed at him _to hunt, to hunt, to hunt._ He almost gave in, to get rid of this _nuisance_ right there and then. The thing that stopped him was a tug from the debt, the dark power that rested deep within; a reminder of the rules.

Rhys pulled back from Jack for a moment, away from the thumping that seemed to boil his own blood. "...we're the same age, Jack, your time will run out. And I," he ran a hand through his hair, chuckling darkly, "am going to stay exactly the same. The difference, Jack, between the two of us, is that I don't need to lift a finger. When you eventually croak... I will be there to watch, and then there will be _nothing_ to stop me." 

Jack didn’t like how the monster had a point. He was only human, and there was no way he’d spend the rest of his life time waiting for this shit head to return to hell. There had to be a solution. 

Thankfully, it came to him easier than he thought it would. 

“Fine, you’re right. _I_ won’t live forever and _I_ can't hurt you.” Jack said before a smirk crossed his features, “but you know who can? Who doesn’t have any debt going on with you? My brother and the rest of the hunters I know. As much as I want to kill you myself, and I’ve got options. Can you say the same?”

Jack let his grin spread across his features. He’s _got_ to have the upper hand now! _Take that you vampiric piece of shit._

Rhys blanched. _Crap._ A group of hunters... he could handle his own in a fight but if he were to be outnumbered, he could be easily taken down. He gripped the table hard enough to leave slight indents as he floundered for a response.

Maybe he pushed too far for his own good, but at this point, he didn't even care. He resorted to what he was best at when his back was against the wall: lying. "What, you seriously think you're the only one with allies? Unless you're trying to start some sort of war, I'd recommend being careful. This is my turf you're on."

Rhys quickly moved to change focus. "And wow, you really are loose-lipped about your family members, huh? Unless this brother can put up a better fight than you, I wouldn't count on him for being anything other than- what was that you said? ‘A walking juice box’?" 

Jack scrunched his nose. A group of hunters could handle a few monsters, but there was no way for him to know how many friends Rhys exactly had. He had at least enough friends who were generous enough to offer up their home for Rhys to stay in, and given how attractive and charming the vampire appeared to be, the amount of allies he’d charmed could easily be up in the hundreds. 

At the end of the day, Jack and other hunters like him were only human, and they were naturally weaker than monsters. Not to mention, hunters were generally anti-social anyway; the idea of them ever being able to form an alliance strong enough to take on any gathering of monsters was laughable. 

But he wouldn’t admit defeat. That wasn’t Handsome Jack’s style. 

“Look me in the eyes and listen closely to my words, monster, if you even think about-“

“Sirs! Excuse me but, y-your food is ready...” The waitress was back and she was trembling, holding up a platter with a hamburger and milkshake with one hand and a pitcher filled with coffee in the other. “W-would you like your coffee to be refilled too?”

Rhys welcomed the distraction. “Ah yes, thank you. And hey,” he gently grabbed hold of her hand, rummaging in his pocket with his free one before placing a bill in her palm, “I’m so sorry about my, uh, _friend’s,_ behavior.” He spit out the word as if it tasted disgusting in his mouth. 

She graciously took the money and sped away, not wanting any part of whatever was going on between these two. 

Jack rolled his eyes at the tip Rhys gave. 

“Now then.” Rhys looked between Jack and the food. “Are you going to keep failing to threaten me, or are you gonna eat? As much as I’d like to see you starve to death, I’ll take whatever break I can get from you talking.” Unless Jack talked while eating, Rhys hoped that wasn’t the case, but his expectations were underground at this point.

“Gonna do both, I’m good with multitasking.” Jack said through a mouth full of burger. The waitress didn’t fuck up the order; he must have scared her enough that she got it right. _Good._ “Besides, weren’t you the one threatening my family? My daughter? My brother?” He swallowed another bite before taking another one. “You want to repeat that to me again? Just wanna get it on record to really motivate my whole family of hunters to come and help beat your ass straight to hell.” 

Only Jack and Timothy hunted, but Rhys didn’t have to know about Angel’s lack of hunting skills.... or Jack’s lack of any extended family. Either way, it helped keep Angel safe if Rhys thought she was some kind of threat.

A fleck of burger landed on Rhys’ shirt. The vampire flicked it off, disgusted. _Yep. Should’ve expected this._ This bastard went on and on about killing Rhys' friends, the closest thing he had to a family. Yet he couldn't even handle a little payback.

Rhys thought on what Jack said and the almost-whole day they've been together now. "You know what I think Jack? I think that if you had died in that alley, no one would have noticed. Even if you do have that family of hunters, why has no one come looking for you? Or even tried to contact you?" He cocked his head slightly, returning to that grin full of malice. "What I think, is that one day your bleeding corpse will be lying in a ditch somewhere and no one is going to care. You're an asshole Jack. Good luck finding anyone willing to give half a shit enough to not get tired and leave you." 

Jack took a long sip of his milkshake, his eyes hardening back to the death glare from before the food interruption. He then raised an eyebrow, and smirked. 

“You want to test that theory?” He sneered as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, expecting to see a wall of texts from his brother. Instead he was met with something very different....

Jack threw the phone on the table between the two of them. “Wanna know why no one has contacted me yet? My phone is dead. Once I get my hands on a charger and get this bad boy booted up again, just watch. This screen is just _overflowing_ with texts from my brother.”

He sipped on his shake again. Gods, it tasted better than he wanted to admit. Maybe he would leave a tip after all.

Rhys snatched the phone Jack had thrown on the table. He rummaged around his bag, producing a phone charger. "Let's see then," he didn't even care about the possible repercussions of him being wrong. All he wanted was to shut down Jack's larger than life ego.

He found an outlet under their booth; it was one of the old style two prong ones. Jamming it into the wall, his eyes were glued to the screen as the phone slowly booted back to life.

Doubt started seeping in. Maybe giving Jack the ability to call for backup wasn't Rhys’ smartest move, but it was too late now. 

Jack reached for the phone the moment the telltale light of the screen showed that it was back up and running. _He was gonna show Rhys, really show him how loved and appreciated Handsome Fucking Jack was..._

Only to be met with nothing but his lock screen staring back at him. 

His mouth hung agape for a moment and he blinked, hoping that his eyes were deceiving him; but there was no deception. Over the course of the last day, he had zero notifications from anyone. 

“That can't be right... just give me a second...” Jack unlocked his screen and went to his messages app. The last message he received was from a grand total of three days ago...

All doubt was wiped away by the smug smile that spread across Rhys' features. "So... I was right then." Oh, it was taking everything to not burst out laughing right there. "You could've been dead this whole time and no one would have known."

Rhys’ posture gained confidence, almost like he had sucked up all that Jack had a moment ago. "Really makes you think about how your life got to this point." Making Jack feel bad just felt so good. He was easy to hate, and once Rhys found the right buttons, he was easy to push. That cocky narcissism... it left him vulnerable. "It's not too late to change though. Maybe start with giving the _dangerous vampire in front of you_ some human decency. Less likely to get killed that way." Rhys spoke louder than he should with something like that, but he was too riled up to notice. 

Jack flipped through his apps, checking his... various inactive social media accounts, hoping someone, somewhere, would have messaged one of them. He got that he wasn't exactly all that active because hunting took up his time and energy, but he had a point to prove.

This was humiliating, he had never felt so embarrassed in his life; but if he kept playing with it, he was just going to look desperate. The vampire was already just eating this shit up with his stupid, smug smile. Jack clicked the little power off button and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

"You trying to what? Embarrass me into being nice to you? Guilt me into it?" Jack shoved a few fries in his mouth and chewed on them angrily. "I don't care if my daughter doesn't have the time of day to text her old man; you don't just get to threaten my baby girl and get away with it. That's a line you don't just come back from-" 

Rhys interrupted, "oh and it's okay for you to threaten my people. Sure, sure. I see how it is. Screw your lines Jack, and screw you." He huffed and crossed his arms, preparing another round of threats and insults to hurl at the hunter.

_Ding a-ling._

The gentle sound of the store's front door being opened alerted the two to a group entering the diner. The waitress moved over to greet them but was quickly shoved aside. One of the other patrons stood up and went to talk with what appeared to be the leader of the group. A well-built, dark haired man. Rhys couldn't put his finger on why, but just the sight of him was annoying.

The patron pointed back towards their booth, and the group walked over. "Well well well," the leader spoke with a deep timbre, "what do we have here?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hear you all out on canon bad dad jack and i hear you out on good dad jack aus but there is one thing none of us have really sat down and thought about: divorced deadbeat dad jack. youre welcome borderlands community, i hope to see many fics incorporating this concept. 
> 
> also messed up how jack is poor in this, but its what had to be done to logically allow him to be a hunter. its an entertaining concept to explore at least.
> 
> seeya next week (if we arent late again)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is like a week late and im really sorry for that but uhhh its here now so enjoy.
> 
> also the plot is finally properly starting up so thats cool

The group blocked the two’s possible exits. Various hairy individuals gathered behind the dark-haired man. Their leader wasn’t tall, but he was stocky. His hair had been slicked to the side, with a full beard of matching dark color. He wore a white dress shirt with black suspenders and a yellow tie; confident, but still able to blend in. His confidence was a foil to the anxious buzz that his followers radiated.

Jack looked up from the table and eyed the newcomers. “Is there something we can help you pretty ladies with?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

They looked like a bunch of jackasses, but Jack got the feeling they were dangerous. Monsters most likely, given how they were paying them any mind at all. On instinct he reached for his gun just to realize Rhys had it, and quickly he reached for his knife instead. 

“They friends of yours?” Jack added, directing the question at Rhys.

"No," Rhys furrowed his brows, "not with this pack of wolves."

The leader had a smarmy smile plastered on his face. "Great, it's always a pain to have to explain to people exactly who they're dealing with." He ran a hand through his greasy looking hair. He oozed sleaze out of every pore. "Name's Vasquez; Hugo, if we're friends, but you've already made it clear that we aren't. Me and my boys got a call about a fang making trouble in our territory." Vasquez slammed his hands on the edge of their table. "Care to explain what a bloodsucker like you is doing in our neck of the woods?"

Rhys scoffed. "Don't ask me," he jammed his thumb in Jack's direction, "why don't you ask Handsome over here?"

Vasquez finally spared a glance over at the hunter. Realization flashed in his eyes. "Wait a second... you're Handsome Jack, aren't you?" Some of the gang nervously reached for their concealed weapons. Vasquez put a hand up to stop them. "Nah boys, let me handle this."

Jack smirked. “Always nice to be recognized; can’t say it’s mutual. Want to introduce yourselves? Have a chat before we get into things? I mean, seriously, what’s the rush anyhow?” 

Jack’s demeanor oozed with confidence, but he had to be careful. A group of werewolves against one hunter and one vampire weren’t great odds, and that’s with the optimistic assumption that Rhys would be on his team here. He hoped the small talk would stall them long enough for Rhys to give him his damn gun back at the very least. Jack kicked him under the table as subtlety as he could and tried to use his foot to find Rhys’ bag. He needed that gun... this could get very ugly for the both of them if he didn’t _have his fucking gun!_

Meanwhile Rhys' thoughts had been running at a mile a minute the moment he saw that the group was armed. He could outrun some wolves, no problem; but the situation was quickly escalating. 

He felt Jack kick his leg and quickly sneaked a glance at the hunter. _Right, he wasn't alone here._ Maybe with the both of them, they could find some way out. Jack would need more than the knife he tried to use earlier, but Rhys hesitated. Giving back the weapon is just asking for trouble, or, rather, _more trouble_ in this scenario.

The werewolf made eye contact with Jack for a moment, as if he was contemplating something. "Like I said, it's Hugo Vasquez. It would do you well to remember it for the future. This is my pack's territory you're in, and..."

Vasquez whipped out his own pistol from under his jacket. "Handsome Jack, did you know a wolf of ours went missing a couple weeks ago? And here I find a hunter having a friendly meal with one of the fangs. If that doesn't just scream suspicious,” he cocked the gun, "then I guess I don't know what suspicious means."

Rhys didn't have any other option. He slid his bag over in Jack's direction and prayed he had a plan. 

“One of you went missing, huh?” Jack chuckled, but internally let out a sigh of relief at feeling the bag near his feet. He took one hand and used it to shove what was left of his burger into his mouth to distract from how the other was fumbling with opening Rhys’ bag from under the table. 

“Because you know what? If I think hard enough, I did hunt a werewolf a few weeks before my current little project.” Jack continued around a mouthful of burger, way too casual for a guy talking about murdering this stranger’s friend, but that was just Jack’s style. “He was really forgettable though. Could easily have been some other guy, I killed a _whole lot_ of wolves. Can you be more specific?” He said as he finally pulled his own gun from Rhys’ bag and pointed it at Vasquez.

Instantly the other goons pulled their weapons. Vasquez growled, his nostrils flaring up.

Rhys couldn't figure out why Jack was antagonizing them. They were clearly out manned and outgunned. He needed to get them out of there, _Now._ The attention was still on Jack; if Rhys could find an opening, he could catch them off guard...

Vasquez looked down the barrel of Jack's gun. "His name was Jerry. Real timid guy, good at following orders. Though at this point, I think I'll kill your cocky ass anyway. One less fur hunter to worry about. My boys haven't had a good hunt in some time." There was a rumble of laughter from the group, and they started closing in on the two men.

There was no risking waiting any longer. Rhys grabbed the coffee pot and threw it at the window. As the glass shattering distracted the wolves, he sucker punched Vasquez right in the jaw. He then grabbed Jack by the shoulder and pulled them out through the broken window.

“Fucking hell Rhysie!” Jack yelled as he got dragged out of the diner. “We were having a good chat! What are you, some kinda pussy?” He pulled the trigger, but the bullet just hit the dinner’s ceiling due to Rhys’ manhandling. The various restaurant-goers cried in shock and horror at the very public display of gun fire. Jack didn’t pay them any mind; they probably thought they were just some local gangs getting rowdy. 

He aimed again once he got his footing outside the dinner. “It could have had a good conversation!” Jack pulled the trigger again, this time hitting one of Vasquez’s buddies directly in the chest. “Talking about how much money I make off of killing these monster scum’s friends is one of the best parts!” He laughed, a sadistic gleam in his eye as he watched the werewolf stumble in pain.

"Did you seriously think we could take on all those wolves with just the two of us?" Rhys yelled over the sound of gunfire. 

Vasquez quickly got back to his feet, rubbing his jaw. He growled at the others. " _Well?_ What are you idiots waiting for?! Go after them!" The pack leapt through the broken window, returning shots. Vasquez paused to look down at his fallen comrade, before following behind the rest of his men.

Rhys yelped as a bullet whizzed past his ear. "I wouldn't have given you your gun back if I knew you didn't have a plan! _You're insane!"_ He frantically scanned the area for where to go next. The pack didn't seem to care about causing violence in front of normies. Another bullet whizzed past. "Argh!" _This situation was so stupid!_

“First of all cupcake, you’re the one who forced me out of that window.” Jack said as he fired another shot, this one however just nicked another werewolf in the shoulder. “Second of all,” he dodged before one of the returning fire bullets could get him, “have some faith, I do my best work when I’m winging it!” He grabbed onto Rhys and ducked behind a dumpster for cover. “So how about you either use your cool vampire powers to get rid of these fuckers or die getting shot at, whatever works!” 

The wolves were almost on them. As soon as they were out of the public eye they started transforming into their true forms. All fur, claws, and teeth, illuminated under the night’s gibbous moon. One of them in particular was gaining fast. Vasquez kept close behind in human form, continuing the onslaught of gunfire. 

Jack tried to get out of cover for a split second to fire a shot only to realize with shock that _fuck, he was out of bullets_. Vasquez’s sights locked onto Jack as he left his cover.

_“FUCK!”_ Jack cried as he felt the metal from Vasquez’s bullet rip through his flesh.

Jack was in a whole world of pain, but his instincts knew better than to let it get to his head and ignore what was happening in front of him. He gritted his teeth and sucked in a deep breath, _just get through this Jack, you can bleed out and die later when you're getting patched up again._

Rhys smelt it before he saw it. _Blood. Jack's blood._ He felt all the instincts he had been holding back in the diner run wild. The blood lust this time wasn't directed at the hunter, however. His body screamed at him to kill whoever _dared_ touch his prey. 

His fangs fully extended, and he yanked off his gloves revealing his clawed arm. 

The scene that Jack was able to make out wasn’t pretty. He watched as Rhys’ fangs and claws fully extended, giving off a monstrous and inhuman look. He half expected the fangs to go straight to his shoulder to suck in the blood that was oozing out of him like what happened just one night ago, but it never came. 

A wolf moved to attack the injured hunter. Rhys intercepted it, sinking his claws and fangs into any flesh soft enough to take hold in. The wolf howled in pain, and Rhys threw them aside like a used rag.

Jack watched as Rhys ripped the werewolf apart with his claws and fangs like a feral beast, and his breath caught in his throat. 

He hated to admit it, but there was something.... beautiful about it. The violence and gore was everywhere, but now that Jack wasn’t the target of Rhys’ vampiric strength, he found himself getting into the murderous scene in front of him. The way Rhys’ claws shone in the moonlight, the way his teeth were caked in blood, the light in his eyes as gore flung out in every direction as he ripped a wolf apart with his bare teeth and claws....

He wrote it off as him just enjoying watching werewolves get torn to pieces. The vampire hissed at the battered and bloody wolf.

Then the moment was over, and Rhys turned back at Jack, his eyes like a wild animal. Jack wondered if there was any reason left in them; but he didn’t have the strength to fight off a feral vampire in the state he was in. 

“The hell are you doing looking at me for!?” Jack asked through gritted teeth, trying to appeal to the rational part of Rhys’ brain, if it was still functional. “Tear apart more of those idiots already! We don’t have all fuckin’ night here so get killing cupcake!”

Rhys smiled, all teeth and gore. That thunderous heartbeat was drawing him in again.

_Thunk._ His attention was pulled from Jack as a bullet passed clean through his leg. He hissed again, dropping to a knee. 

Two of the transformed wolves started circling Rhys, growling at the sight of their fallen friend. The wolves attacked together, one of them clamping onto his injured leg and the other coming head on.

The head on attacker managed to get a few swipes before Rhys grabbed it by the throat, and squeezed. The second wolf was more successful. Seeing the other get caught, they bit down harder, trying to get the vampire to loosen his death grip. Rhys cried out in pain but refused to give.

He was just barely scraping by against the two werewolves. Meanwhile, Vasquez was lining up his shot. 

For a split second, Jack felt an emotion settle in that he hadn't let himself feel for ages: panic. His shoulder was shot, his gun was out of bullets, and his vampire sidekick was getting his ass handed to him. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. 

Jack sucked in his breath. He should run and let Rhys get torn to shreds as he ran away. After Jack ran away to freedom he could always come back and murder the werewolves on his own time after he had regained his health. He'd done it dozens of times before. 

But for some reason... his body wouldn't budge. Instead something very... different happened. 

He pulled out his knife and ran as best he could into the action, stumbling over his own feet as he went, due the lack of blood in his body, but he wasn't paying it any mind. 

"Monster Rookie mistake number one: never forget to come to a fight without bringing an eye for the back of your head." Jack grunted as he towered above the wolf clamping onto Rhys' leg, and then immediately reached down and around the wolf's torso, stabbing him directly into the heart. "You never know what might be behind you, kid."

For a guy who just got shot in the shoulder and felt like he could die at any second, he had to say, he was fairly impressed with the amount of strength he was able to muster into the knife. He jammed it in hard as he could as black spots appeared and clouded his vision. 

Rhys turned as he heard Jack, the wolf in his hand moving with his body. As he did a gunshot rang out. The bullet hit the wolf which became still in Rhys’ grasp. Blood splatter covered his face and he licked his lips, growling at the source of the gunshot.

He kicked off the other dying wolf with his uninjured leg and it let out one final whimper.

Vasquez looked like he was about to piss his pants. As the vampire started limping towards him, he decided that it was time to get the hell out. He bolted out of there as fast as possible.

Rhys snarled, trying to push forward and continue the hunt, but his injury brought him back to his knees. 

As the threat faded so did Rhys’ blood lust, some semblance of self returning. He grit his teeth, letting out a shaky breath in an attempt to calm down. The smell of dead werewolf hung thick in the air, as well as another smell. Human blood; Jack’s, to be specific. As his healing factor started kicking in, draining his energy, he couldn’t help but crave the source of that smell.

The vampire shook in frustration, and bit at his claw in order to distract himself. He only succeeded in getting wolf viscera stuck under it in his mouth. “Ugh, that’s so nasty…” He spat. Human blood was the only kind that could satisfy a vampire.

"Y... you're telling me, kid." Jack groaned, collapsing next to Rhys. He would make fun of Rhys for biting his claws like a kid would, but he was losing… all ability to give off snarky comments. He tried to put pressure on his shoulder wound with his free hand to stop the bleeding, but he hissed at the contact and instinctively took his hands off. _Fuck this, just fuck this._

He needed to call plan B; he was going to bleed to death out here at this rate and the last thing Handsome Jack intended to do was die. Not here, and not with some dirty vampire. 

Jack fumbled with his pocket and slowly pulled out his phone; he was barely able to unlock it before his arm lost its strength. _Gods he was pathetic, can't even make a fucking phone call...._

"Rhys..." he mumbled, "if you give any shits about us living, just grab... my phone and..." he coughed up blood. "Call Tim, he'd know what to..." he was bobbing in and out of consciousness.

“Damnit Jack, don’t pass out on me again! I can’t carry you this time.” The bleeding had stopped but it would take time before Rhys' injuries healed. At best he could limp.

He moved to put pressure on Jack’s shoulder as he took his phone. He quickly opened the contact list. A name stuck out as he scrolled down the T’s. **My Angel**. _Must be the daughter he mentioned_. He saw a contact listed under Timtam, which was the closest to Tim he was getting.

Rhys hesitated for a moment on the call button. _This was his hunter brother, right? The one not bound by any magic to not kill him?_ He looked at Jack, who was growing paler by the second.

He pushed the button, holding his breath as it dialed.

The phone rang a few times before a voice was heard over the phone. "Jack? It's late and I'm doing my own thing. Listen, this better be something important because if you’re just fucking with me again like always... it's going to be your fault if I don't get this guy and... you know how it is." The voice answered, talking a hundred miles per minute in a voice uncannily similar to Jack's, yet not. 

Rhys hesitated for a second to answer the not quite Jack voice. The real Jack hissed and groaned under the pressure of Rhys’ arm; for such a tough guy, the dude could be a real baby.

“Yeah I’m uh, I’m not Jack. We’re kind of in a shit situation here and he told me to call Tim, if that’s you.” Rhys shifted his weight to lessen Jack’s discomfort as best he could. “He’s not looking good right now; any help you can offer would be more than appreciated.” 

The voice was silent for a second. "So, it really is something serious then. It's gotta be if he’s actually calling for help..." he mumbled before pausing and speaking up. "Sorry for that earlier. Yeah, I'm Tim. I actually go by Timothy, but I'm fine with being called Tim. Can you let me know where you are and what exactly happened?" There were noises on the other side of the line like things were being shuffled and bumped around.

"Did Timmy answer?" Jack wheezed, his eyes rolling around as he looked at Rhys wearily. "He always says he wouldn't and then does anyway...." 

“Timothy, I’m Rhys. We were attacked by a pack of wolves, Jack got shot in the shoulder.” Rhys held the phone in the bend of his neck to free up his other hand. He gently grasped the hunter’s arm. “Jack come on, stay with me,” he said to Jack before turning his attention back to Timothy.

“He’s losing blood, and he was already pretty low. I can send you a pin of our location but…” Rhys remembered Jack’s various threats. “I need you to promise you’re not gonna just murder me when you get here.”

It wasn’t much of anything, to take someone’s word for something. His only other choice was to let Jack die. He’d already worked too hard on this asshole to leave now. A promise will have to do. 

Timothy was taken aback on the other end of the line. "Why do you ask that? Would I want to murder you?" 

“Possibly. To make a long story short, I’m the vampire Jack was hunting.” There was no hiding it, not when the pain from his leg was keeping him from retracting his fangs.

Timothy went silent for a minute or so before a sigh was heard from the other end of the line. "I'm really confused right now, but there's gotta be a good explanation for this. Just send the location, I'll see what I can do." He took a deep breath, "and I promise I won't hurt you."

Jack shifted underneath Rhys. "Just going to tell him, huh?" He rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "Smart moves, kitten." 

“Don’t waste your energy on sassing me.” Rhys scolded Jack, but he was somewhat relieved that he was still lucid enough to do that.

“Sorry, uh, sending it now.” He texted Timothy a pin of their location, silently thanking whatever genius thought up that idea. 

Rhys put his attention back to Jack for a moment. “You really like putting me in tight spots, huh, Jack?” He fidgeted with the pressure again, doing his best with his limited medical knowledge. 

"It's all a part of being me, babe." Jack coughed again, but it was shallow and weak. "But honestly, who’s bright idea was it to..." he grunted, "keep me from my gun so I couldn't..." his voice died mid-sentence. 

"I'll be there within 15 minutes or so, but no guarantees. Keep him breathing, I'll be there soon." Timothy hung up.

Rhys placed the phone down, giving his full attention to the hunter. “Okay, Timothy said he’ll be here in about 15 minutes. I need you to stay awake till then. It’s gotta take more than some slimy wolves to take Handsome Jack down, right?”

He was trying to keep Jack talking, keep him conscious. He listened carefully to the hunters heartbeat, keeping watch for any changes. He felt his instincts stirring as he listened, but shoved them down.

“Yeah, Handsome Jack doesn’t die....” He looked Rhys in the eyes and gave a weak smirk. “Bet I look ridiculously hot like this though.” 

Rhys let out a nervous chuckle. “You caught me, that’s my exact type: rugged and bloody.”

He was right though, seeing the handsome man weak under him was rousing more than one kind of appetite. _Nope, nope, now is not the time for those kinds of thoughts, Rhys_.

“I can see it in your eyes, you horny little shit.” Jack coughed. Even when he was on the brink of passing out, he was cheeky as always. “Unlucky for you, pumpkin, I’m not into the feral monster types.” He was, he hated to admit it, but the fangs and Rhys’ covered-in-the-blood-of-his-enemies look was driving Jack crazy; but he wasn’t going to admit it. 

“Yeah, I’m feeling real unlucky right now. Anyone ever tell you your rotten personality is a turn off?” Rhys was a romantic type. He wanted to be swept off his feet and whispered sweet nothings. He did not like stupid cocky hunter assholes with stupid handsome faces and stupid cool scars and stupid nice arms and stupid big hands.

_Oh shit._

Rhys’ mind was a mess right now and he did not feel like following that particular line of thought. It was probably just the blood; hunger always made him act weird. _Right?_

“Keep tellin’ yourself that kitten, my personality is...” Jack trailed off, his eyes shut and his breathing became even more shallow. He had put up a good fight, but he finally lost consciousness. 

“Hey, hey!” Rhys moved one of his hands to cup Jack’s face. “Just hold on a little longer,” when he lifted his hand, there was blood smeared across the man’s face. 

He looked at his hand which was covered in Jack’s blood. He gulped, remembering the taste from last night.

He carefully licked one of his fingers. Delicious... nothing could compare to how good human blood tasted. He glanced around, then looked down at Jack’s unconscious body. The blood was already outside him, right? He’s not gonna miss it if Rhys just had a little sip.

He leaned in, gently lapping up some of the spilt blood off the injury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise not to let another 2 week gap go by without a chapter so. expect the next one soonish (aka less than a week maybe) to make up for it


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u know what i said about posting chapters every week? ok screw that kinda pressure ill post when its time to post

As Jack laid unconscious and the vampire sucked from his wound, a figure walked around a street corner to a horrifying sight: his twin brother, unconscious and near the brink of death, as a terrifying vampire fed from his wound. 

Timothy cursed himself for being so naive as to think that the strange vampire on the phone did have good intentions after all. He pulled his shot gun out and aimed for the monster’s head. 

“Step away from my brother, Rhys,” Timothy spoke, his voice hard. It was the same as Jack’s, yet there was a seriousness to it that Jack’s never had. The two were identical after all, the only differences being Timothy had less grey hairs than Jack and lacked a V-shaped scar across his face. His scars decided to scratch his left cheek in a crosshatch pattern instead. 

“You better hope he’s still alive under there, or there’s no telling what I might have to do to you.” Jack was always far better than Timothy at making threats, one of the side effects of a healthy amount of sadism which Timothy lacked, but his bark was scary enough as it was. 

He’d killed enough monsters just like this one to earn that much.

Rhys’ eyes widened as he saw what looked like another Jack. “Uh, um.” He sputtered, looking for the right words. He knew he looked awfully incriminating. His fangs and claws were on full display for Timothy to see.

“It’s not what it looks like! Okay, maybe it’s a little of what it looks like, but I...” What was he doing? Why did he think this was a good idea? He started panicking as he looked down the barrel of a shotgun. 

Under his panic, he heard Jack’s heartbeat. It was fainter than before, but Jack was still alive. The situation was still salvageable. “Timothy, I know this looks bad, but we have no time to waste." He tried to stand, wincing with the pressure on his injured leg. "Please." 

The man studied the vampire for a few seconds, debating whether or not to just say screw it and shoot him and deal with Jack’s injuries on his own. That would, of course, be what Jack would want him to do, but Timothy always had a few problems Jack never had to deal with. Problems that involved Timothy being too curious for his own good and always seeing the best in people, even monsters. 

“I’m not going to lie, I don’t understand what’s going on here. But....” He lowered his gun. “That’s not what’s important right now. If you are for real about wanting Jack to get better, then step aside. Your fangs aren’t going to help anyone here.” 

Rhys sighed a breath of relief. He ran his clawed hand through his hair to regain his composure. "Gladly," he motioned for Timothy to come closer. "He's hit on his shoulder, not sure if the bullet went clean through. It could still be there."

Rhys clenched his jaw in worry. There was just so much going wrong since he met Jack. He wanted to be able to help him himself, but he had a feeling Timothy knew what he was doing. "He was already weakened from last night's injury, you might want to check his stitches..." He quickly clammed up, deciding not to go into too much detail about their fight. 

“Stitches?” Timothy’s eyebrow went up, but he quickly tried to disregard it and turned his attention to treating Jack. This was what happened when Timothy and Jack spent any time hunting away from each other. If they weren’t a pair of stubborn assholes when they had arguments, maybe Timothy would have actually been here to prevent this crisis.

He knelt down next to Rhys and examined the wound. No arteries appeared to be hit but the muscle tissue clearly got the blunt of it. Jack was lucky he wasn’t left handed; if the healing process didn’t work out well there was no telling if he’d be able to use his left arm again. 

Timothy checked the back of Jack to find that there was no exit wound. He should be celebrating because that probably meant the wound isn’t too terrible, but there was the slight problem of the bullet being stuck in Jack’s body. 

He applied pressure again as he used the other arm to riffle through his bag, finding the proper supplies to deal with the injury. 

He cleaned off the wound and then paused, “well, this is a problem....” Timothy muttered.

"What is it?" Rhys leaned over Timothy's shoulder, trying to understand the situation as best he could. He thought about suggesting a hospital, but quickly ruled it out. It would take too long to get there, and even if they did, there would be all the questions and cover ups to deal with. Not to mention the whole vampire biology thing. 

Rhys really didn't want to bother Timothy while he worked. Standing around doing nothing wasn't his strong suit though. "Do you need a hand?" He sheepishly rubbed his right arm. "Probably not this one though." He wasn't sure why he was making jokes. Someone once told him they broke the ice, but that most likely was at some fancy dinner party and not a life or death situation. He internally cringed. 

Timothy looked up from his bag and eyeballed Rhys’ hand. The joke wasn’t funny or anything, but the look of their long talons did give Timothy an idea…

“Do you wanna make yourself useful?” He pointed at Rhys’ taloned hand, “because I left behind the proper tools to get this bullet out. If you really are serious about giving the slightest shit about my brother...” He took a breath. He really couldn’t believe he was doing this. “Do exactly as I say. If you screw this up even a little bit, I won't hesitate to blow your brains out. Got it?”

Rhys flinched at the idea of taking a shotgun to the head, but quickly nodded. "Whatever you need. I've put too much work into keeping this idiot alive to stop now." He pinched the bridge of his nose, before looking over at Timothy. "Oh, uh, I guess I shouldn't be calling your brother an idiot. Sorry? I guess?"

Rhys wasn't really sorry but he wasn't going to be upsetting the man with the shotgun. That's something Jack would do, hence the idiot. He smiled at the thought but his expression quickly replaced with worry again. Dammit.

He flexed his talons, they were still stained red from the fight, "might need to clean these though. I somehow doubt those wolves were clean." Just thinking about Vasquez's greasy face was enough to disgust Rhys. That guy really rubbed him the wrong way. More than the regular _guy who tried to kill you_ kind of way.

Timothy nodded. "Obviously. Don't worry, I got this right here." He took out some disinfectant wipes and handed them to Rhys. "Be quick about it, though. We don't have much time if we want to save his life."

As Rhys cleaned off his talons, Timothy prepared the shoulder in a way that would allow the quickest, and cleanest removal of the bullet possible. "And don't be sorry about calling Jack an idiot. That's exactly what he is." 

Rhys scrubbed hard with the wipes. They wiped off bacteria, sure, but he knew he would be smelling werewolf blood for a few more days at least. After going through a few of the wipes, he felt somewhat sterile. 

"Okay, I think I'm ready." Rhys looked between Timothy and Jack, waiting for instruction. He couldn't help comparing the two brothers. The cold resolve in Timothy's eyes seemed to almost directly oppose the fire in Jack's, despite how similar they looked. And yet there was something soft in that cold gaze, maybe due to the fact that he was currently worried about his brother.

Rhys made a mental note to poke fun of Jack's grey hairs compared to his brother's if, no, _when_ he regained consciousness. 

Timothy nodded and began giving out instructions. He directed Rhys' talons to go exactly where he needed them and he snapped when they moved slightly off track. It was a highly tense and stressful process, but it was necessary. 

After a few extremely stressful and excruciating moments, the bullet was out.

Rhys sighed with relief as they finished. His body finally was able to calm down and start retracting his... sharper parts. He examined the bullet in his hands for a moment, then pocketed it. You never know.

"Good, now before we celebrate, let me just..." Timothy looked through his bag again and grabbed a red vial. Hospitals weren't an option for people like them, and if they can't go to a hospital, they can't be too picky. 

Rhys turned back to see Timothy pouring a red liquid into Jack's mouth. It looked weirdly familiar, but no, it couldn’t be… could it? 

"Wait, is that a potion?" Rhys asked. Jack seemed to hate magic, he just assumed Timothy would be the same way. Did he have a witch supplier? Or maybe... it was a prize from a hunt? 

Rhys worried about his friends for a moment. Athena was tough, but when was the last time he saw them? He decided to ignore that pit of worry for a moment and just ask instead of making assumptions on his own. "How'd a hunter like you get your hands on that?" 

“I’m friends with a witch. She supplies me with... things from time to time,” Timothy said, tapping the butt of the vial to make sure all the liquid came out. “I’m told this is called an Anshin. According to the sales pitch, it’s a simple concoction that speeds up the body’s natural healing process but won't magically make every problem go away.” 

Timothy pushed the cork back on and then pocketed the empty vial. “It’s nothing too strong. As a hunter, I'm not exactly trusted with those sorts of things. I don’t take it personally, but Jack doesn’t approve of me using any of this. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to keep this a secret between us. Got that?” 

Jack’s wounds were already stitching themselves back to working order before their very eyes.

Rhys scoffed. “Don’t have to tell me twice. The bastard threatened to kill my friends at the slightest hint they weren’t normal humans, and yet...”

And yet he had fought by Rhys’ side. The fight was like a blur, but he remembered Jack coming to his rescue. He remembered narrowly avoiding Vasquez’s gunshot. Why did Jack do that? Why didn’t he run?

Rhys pouted. Probably some stupid reason like he had to be the one to kill him or something. 

He suddenly remembered Vasquez. “Oh crap... Timothy, the pack leader got away. We should probably get out of here before he comes back with reinforcements.” 

Timothy blinked at Rhys. “You really didn’t think this was important information to tell me earlier?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

Rhys winced. "Sorry! I was kinda distracted with the whole... ‘Jack bleeding out’ thing!" He tested putting pressure on his hurt leg, letting out a small hiss from the sting. "I would carry him but..." 

Rhys was interrupted by Jack's groans and his heartbeat returned to a waking rhythm.

_Oh thank god._ A conscious Jack would make getting out of here much easier. Wait, Jack hadn't exactly been... careful... when they were outmatched earlier. Rhys muttered under his breath, "If you try to pull some stupid stunt when you just passed out, I'm going to be so mad..."

Jack blinked his way back to consciousness. “The.. the fuck happened…?” He coughed the moment he was able to, his head felt like it was full of bricks, his body was laying on hard cement and the upper left half of his body was tingling like tiny little insects were crawling under his skin. All in all, not a great feeling. 

Then he saw his brother’s and Rhys’ faces above him and he chuckled. 

“Eyyyy Timtam, you made it, huh? Good job on responding so quick, but you know I had it covered right?” Jack smirked and began pushing himself up off the ground. 

Timothy rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah. You definitely had your near fatal bullet wound covered. Whatever you say Jack, and by the way, you’re welcome.” 

"Not to mention," Rhys interjected, "you were the one who told me to call him. Not very covered if you're asking for help." Hearing them both speak really drove home the fact that they were twins. Despite the differences in their appearances, they had the same base good looks. Rhys couldn't say that Jack got all the handsome genes between them. Yet Timothy was level-headed and open to reason.

Rhys turned to Timothy. "Is he always such a dick? I thought it was just because he hated me. You have to live with this?" His tone was lighthearted and playful. He liked teasing Jack. 

Timothy snorted. “Yeah he’s always been like this. Do you have any idea how it was like growing up with him? It was-“

“-amazing, spectacular, fantastic having a big brother as great as me,” Jack interrupted, recovering enough to stand up and wrap an arm around Tim’s shoulders. “Me and Timmy here had some great times. Great times! Like I always knew how much he loves heights-“

“I don’t love heights.”

“-so I’d always trick him to come up on the top bunk with me by luring him with promises of getting his little stuffed animal cat that I kidnapped back, but the moment he comes up, bam! I don’t even have the cat on me! Instead I-“

“-pushed me off the bed from the top bunk. How many times are you going to tell people about that Jack? It wasn’t funny back then and it isn’t funny now!” Timothy moved out of Jack’s arm’s embrace and swatted it away. 

“Come on, the funny part wasn’t the prank but the part where you fell for it every time!” Jack wasn’t too deterred by Timothy’s weak attempts to leave his embrace. He gave his brother a noogie like they were still a pair of children, and when it really came down to it, they might as well be.

Rhys tried to stifle his giggle, covering his mouth with his hands. He couldn’t believe these two were both scary hunters who had both separately threatened to kill him. 

Jack seemed to have recovered incredibly fast if he was already messing around with Tim. The Anshin must have been a strong potion. 

He felt calm seeing the two of them like this. It was almost enough to forget the shit 24 hours he’s had.

He was unsuccessful in stopping his giggles. “I’m sorry Timothy, it’s just... that’s such a shitty prank Jack.” His eyes crinkled in a smile, “usually pranks require some clever thought.” Jack had a knack for saying stupid stuff that made him laugh it seemed. 

“What can I say?” Jack held his hands up in defeat, “it’s simple, yet classic. It’s Tim’s stupid face that really drove the prank home.” He smiled playfully, and for a moment he let himself forget that Rhys was a vampire and he thought only about how he just made a cute young man laugh. 

“Same face as yours, jackass...” Timothy grumbled, but there was definitely some red on his cheeks from embarrassment. Once again, Jack swooped in and ruined whatever first impression Timothy was hoping to make, just another day in the life of Timothy Lawrence. 

“If you are so good and healthy already, get your stuff together and let’s get out of here. Both of you owe me a good explanation for whatever this whole....” Timothy gestured around at the... _everything_ in front of him, “situation is. But you can tell me later, I’d rather not fight an entire werewolf pack tonight if I can help it.”

Rhys grimaced, “we can agree on that. I’ve had enough fur in my mouth for one night. I just hope those dogs know what a shower is.” 

He looked down at his clothes. They were bloody and torn; the second outfit in a row. He usually avoided conflict when possible for this reason exactly: too messy. He limped over to where he threw his gloves off earlier. His limp was gradually improving as his healing factor did its work but he was still having trouble walking properly. He picked up his gloves and slipped them on. “Speaking of, please tell me you know somewhere I can shower.” 

Timothy nodded. “I do. I was hunting a wendigo a little outside of Promethea when I got your call. It’s a 15 minute drive to the motel room, I got a-“

“Ah-ta-ta-ta!” Jack raised a finger and shushed Timothy. “We have more important things to do than waste your valuable gas money! Rhysie here has a fun safe magic house full of food, right here in the city, he’d be more than happy to let us use it. Isn’t that right, kitten?”

Rhys scowled, “yeah, like I’m taking you back there after you threatened my friends and started breaking stuff. Plus I kinda sorta... left the key in my bag, which is back in the diner...” 

He silently swore at the realization. At least no one would know where to use it on with the door being hidden by magic. However, his bag had all his travel essentials, not to mention his cash. The cops would’ve shown up by now, no way in hell Rhys was getting it back.

He sighed, frustrated. It’ll be a pain in the neck to replace all that. 

“Ugh that is SO frustrating! I was really looking forward to going back there and-”

Timothy slapped a hand over Jack’s mouth. “Motel it is then. Pick up whatever is yours and let’s head out.”

Timothy used his leg to push his bag towards him and used his free hand to pick it up. Meanwhile, Jack struggled against the hand covering his mouth. They were truly a pair of middle aged children.

Rhys didn’t have anything to pick up. All his things were gone and back in the diner. He sighed and followed after, still limping slightly.

He was glad Timothy stopped Jack from whatever murder rant he was about to go on. “Thanks for the save. You really have to give me tips for shutting him up sometime. He doesn’t even stop when eating.” He gave Jack a look, “it’s disgusting.” 

Eventually, Jack succeeded in ripping Tim’s hand off of him. “Cute that you think Timtam can keep me quiet for long; I got a reputation to keep up.” He then grabbed his own gun off from the ground and dusted off his jacket. The bullet hole was still there and covered in blood as if Jack were a serial killer. Jack figured his brother probably used a potion on him again, he’d have to get on his case about that. 

Later though, they had business to get to. 

“Lead the way Timmy,” Jack holstered the gun. “Bring us back to my wonderful truck that I graciously let you borrow for the time being.”

_“Our_ truck, it’s _our_ truck Jack.” Timothy checked to make sure everything was in his bag, zipped it up, and then shouldered it. 

He paused. Walking along the sidewalk to the truck was going to be a horrible idea when both his companions were caked head to toe in blood. 

He pulled out his phone and looked for an alternative route through some back alleyways. 

“This way, follow my lead.” Timothy began walking according to what his phone told him was a good idea.

Rhys followed the two hunters, which was honestly the last thing he thought he’d be doing this week. Amazing how life threatening situations can spice things up.

“So who’s driving?” Rhys asked this out of curiosity. Being an only child, he could not see the can of worms he just opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jack and timothy are very dumb and theyre very fun to play with because of it. anyways everyone stay safe we will post another chapter when were good and ready to post


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy homestuck day, have a new chapter of a borderlands fic. you know, as a treat.

_ “I’m driving,”  _ both Jack and Timothy spoke up in unison as an old and battered truck came into view. It wasn’t a long walk given how dire the situation was, Timothy parked nearby in a... somewhat illegal spot, but that was just the kind of lifestyle Jack and Tim lived. 

“Come on Timmy, you drove last time.” Jack grinned and moved for the driver's seat. 

“Letting me have the car for a day because you were too stubborn to admit you needed help tracking a vampire doesn’t count.” Timothy said, whacking Jack’s hand away from the door handle.

“But Tim, I CLEARLY was able to track him down without your help!” He gestured to Rhys. 

_ “So? _ He’s still breathing and for some reason is helping you continue to breathe because you got your ass almost killed without me, and I’m very confused, but the point is you clearly didn’t handle the situation!” Timothy opened the door just a crack before Jack’s hand grabbed it and tried to force his way in instead.

“None of that matters except for the fact that I’m a great driver and this is my truck and I get to drive when we have horrible monster scum guests to take care of before we kill them!”

“That’s even more reason to let me drive! If we are seriously letting this vampire ride with us because he saved your life then we owe him that much to not drive OUR car into a wall! You almost  _ killed me _ last time you drove!” 

“And if I do kill us since you think I am _ such _ an ‘unsafe driver’ just know that’s exactly what I want to happen to this bloodsucker anyway.” Jack winked at Rhys. 

“But what about how  _ I don’t want to die?” _ Timothy continued to fight Jack for the driver’s seat; there was no telling how long their bickering would last. This could really go on all night if they were left to their own devices, truly.

Rhys was an only child, so he couldn’t understand this situation. Why couldn't the two of them talk it out like normal adults? He'd seen the same sort of bickering with Fiona and Sasha, but he had assumed that was just from the girls' fiery personalities.  _ Was butting heads something all siblings did?  _

He would rather not die and if that meant Timothy taking the wheel then that was definitely the preferred option. However the twin’s bickering was intense. Rhys decided that instead of getting between the two and potentially shot, he would slip into the back seat. He opened the door, and yelped as a mountain of deadly weapons, traps, and other garbage spilled onto the concrete.

"Oh crap," Timothy stopped fighting for the driver’s seat upon noticing the mess that was made. Jack took advantage of the opportunity and triumphantly slipped into the driver’s seat.

Timothy frowned, "Jack, get up and clean up the weapons off the ground. It’s your fault they were piled up that high anyway." He looked at Rhys and the pile of weapons, a good amount of them being deadly for vampires to even touch. There was no way Rhys was going to be able to clean up the mess he created on his own.

Jack rummaged in his pocket, only to realize he didn't have the key. Right, it completely slipped his mind that it was still in Timothy’s possession of it since he was the one who drove here in the first place. As much as Jack could theoretically fight for it, he knew Timothy had enough experience dealing with him to have any effort be futile. 

Jack also did  _ not  _ want to do any cleaning.

"Alright, here's the deal. You clean the mess the monster scum created, and I'll let you drive, deal?" Jack held out his hand to shake on it. 

"Fine, works for me." Timothy said but ignored the hand being offered and began picking up the guns. "Sorry about the mess, Rhys. We don't typically have company..." He murmured as he hastily picked up guns, daggers, garlic, and bottles of holy water off the ground. 

Rhys glanced at said mess, wrinkling his nose slightly. “It’s fine, it’s not like-ah- _ achoo!”  _ His sentence was interrupted by a sneeze. He sniffled a little, “sorry, uh, allergies.” He hoped there wasn’t much more garlic inside the vehicle. The last thing he wanted right now was to be a sniffly mess.

Jack made his way to the other side of the car, which he would typically complain about immensely, but he was a bit occupied by being amused with Rhys' "allergies".

Jack grinned as he sat down in the shotgun seat.  _ "Allergies?"  _ He leaned around the seat to look at Rhys' expression and snicker about it.  _ "That’s _ what we are calling your kind's hatred of onions now?" 

Rhys climbed in once Timothy finished cleaning and clearing a spot for him. Instantly his nose was hit with the heavy smell of garlic. _ Oh boy.  _

Timothy slid into his spot in the driver’s seat and placed the key in the ignition. After some very... concerning noises, the engine had started, and they were ready to go. 

Rhys let out another sneeze. “What the hell did you do, cover your car in garlic powder?” His nose was already stuffed up and his eyes were watering. It wasn’t the prettiest picture, “and yes, I do call it an allergy, because it’s basically-” he started a sneezing fit, “oh my god I think I’m gonna suffocate back here.”

“Hell yeah we did! That's exactly it Rhysie, we just smeared it  _ all _ over to protect against demons like you. How’d you ever guess?” Jack snickered, way too smug about Rhys’ allergy attack. He oddly found himself enjoying hearing Rhys’ sneezes, he sounded a bit like how a cat would sneeze, and it was almost kind of adorable. 

As adorable as a blood sucking demon could be. 

Rhys meanwhile found the whole garlic thing to be so stupid. The feeling he got was similar to the pollen allergies he had back before he turned, but he knew it was more than that. He felt his body weaken, his normal supernatural strength reduced. The main problem though... he winced as he shifted his leg. Thankfully it had healed quite a bit earlier but it looked like it was going to have to stay the way it was for the whole car ride.

Vampires being weakened with garlic was common knowledge, but Rhys wasn’t sure if the brothers knew how it stopped the healing factor. Their victims were most likely killed before any healing could start. It was best to keep that weakness to himself.

Rhys groaned as another sneezing fit hit him. “Forget almost dying, this is the worst. I’m in hell.” 

“I’m glad it still works, I was worried we were running low....” Timothy murmured, turning the car onto the road and driving down the street. “Sorry, here,” Timothy pressed a button and the backseat window next to Rhys cracked open. “Does that help any?” He eyed him through the rearview mirror.

The blast of fresh air was like an oasis in a desert. “Ohhh that helps a lot, thanks.” It was still affecting Rhys, but at least he could breathe a little easier. He resisted the urge to rub his eyes, knowing from experience it would just make it worse.

Trying to focus on anything else, he figured he’d chat with the two brothers. “This truck looks like it’s seen some things.” A nice way of saying it was old and a mess. “Got any good stories about it?” 

“You bet your skinny ass it does!” Jack exclaimed, enthusiastic to talk about his and Tim’s little adventures, “oh man, you see how cracked the windshield is? There was this one time when me and Timtam here found this cult that summoned all these fucking demons in this small town I can't remember the name of, and this asshole came at us and-“

“There’s just one story I give a shit about right now,” Timothy interrupted Jack’s tangent. “How about you two explain why I’m driving a very alive and breathing vampire home to my current place of living? Am I the only one who finds this situation to be  _ really _ weird or have I just finally lost my mind after all these years of bullshit?” 

"That is, uh, hmm..." Rhys looked out the window as he searched for the right words. He realized his situation all of a sudden. Here he was, stuck in a car with two hunters in a weakened state. Only one of whom was being forced not to kill him. He had been so caught up in everything he completely forgot about the threats he had been making against Jack's whole family earlier. And how Jack had threatened to have his brother, the one sitting in the very same car, murder him.

_ Oops? _

Rhys started evaluating his exit options in case shit hit the fan. Jumping out would hurt like a bitch, and judging by the story Jack just started they were not unfamiliar with running over his type. Even if he did get away, he lost all his stuff. No money, no safe hiding spot, and he was covered in blood. He had a friend about a night walk away who could possibly help him, but a good chunk of the night was spent and the sun would rise before he could get there. He was more than a little screwed right now.

Staying put and hoping for the best was looking like his only option. He started recounting the tale of last night to Timothy, as casual as possible. "Well, as you can probably guess, it started with Jack trying to kill me." 

"Oh yeah, I had tracked Rhysie down so good, you have no idea how big of a piece of cake he was to find Timmy!" Jack grinned, bragging. "I mean honestly, I was expecting a challenge given how big a deal the other hunters made and how you were all like 'Jack you could NEVER track this particular vampire all on your own without me' but  _ ha, I did it! I tracked this little fucker down all on my own and I proved you wrong, idiot! _ " He smacked Timothy in the shoulder.

"Okay, fine, you win. I don't even remember what we bet but you can have it. Can you just move on with the story now?" Timothy said as they stopped at a red light.

Rhys snorted, a little pride welling in his chest from being such a challenge to track. "Is it so wrong to value my privacy? Seriously..." he put his chin in his hand and hummed a little. "Does ‘do it all on your own’ include you getting your ass kicked? Because I distinctly remember winning our little fight." He probably shouldn't antagonize Jack, but it was just so easy. Rhys gave a toothy smile, not necessarily trying to be threatening. He just wasn't worrying about having to hide his fangs like usual. 

"Hang on cupcake, you wanna repeat that again for me? Because I feel like you just said that you won when I clearly wiped the floor with your ass." Jack cackled, "I shot and stabbed you like 10 times! Come on, give a guy some credit."

Timothy raised an eyebrow,  _ "10 times?" _

Rhys rolled his eyes. "You shot me three times at most. And how did you win when I ended up _ on top of you  _ with my hand around your throat?" He kicked the back of Jack's seat a little. "Plus you ended up passing out and I had to run through the streets carrying you! Do you know how dangerous that is?" He fumed.

There were eyes everywhere, and word traveled fast in a city like this. Avoiding those eyes was why he was so difficult to track down. It was how he survived as long as he had. Jack though, he brought attention everywhere he went. Rhys began fretting before his train of thought was interrupted by Jack again.

"Pfft, I meant to do all of that pumpkin. You were really just seconds away from dying if you would not have put your lips on top of mine and started making out with me like the horny little-”

"Wait,  _ what? _ You two ‘made out’?" Tim risked a glance away from the road to look between the two of them. "Is  _ that  _ why he isn't dead? Jack are you screwing the... oh my god..."

Rhys turned beet red. "Wha-I-NO! No, no, no, no, no! That is... why would you even-I don't-" He buried his face in his hands, taking a deep breath. 

Sure Jack was a handsome guy, but for Timothy to suggest such a thing... he wondered if it wasn't very off-brand for Jack to  _ bed _ good-looking strangers like himself. He seemed to genuinely hate vampires so it was a little strange.

"It wasn’t making out! It was  _ one _ kiss, to seal the deal of him not murdering me. Not... we are definitely  _ not  _ fucking. Is that... is that a thing he does with his hunts?" Rhys was kind of hoping the answer was no. That he was special. 

“Only the pretty ones and trust me, you aren’t my type, kitten.” Jack’s type was  _ everything _ , but that was just another thing Jack wasn’t going to say out loud. “Gotta admit, it was kinda kinky what we did. Must _ really  _ frustrate you how it never went anywhere, huh?”

Rhys took offense to that.  _ He  _ **_was_ ** _ a pretty one!  _ He knew damn well he was pretty. He took pride in it! He scoffed, and pushed his feet up against Jack's seat again. "If me kicking your ass is your kink, then anytime, anywhere, I will help you indulge it. It would be my pleasure. And besides, a lover who passes out and leaves all the work to their partner? Who wants that?" His grin was wicked, spread from ear to ear as he snickered at his own joke. 

“Oh you think you’d be the one topping?  _ Is that what you think?”  _ Jack leaned back against his chair hard in retaliation. It wasn’t nearly as effective as Rhys simply kicking it was, but it’d do. “Because Listen here; _ I fuck _ and I fuck  _ good.  _ I’d dominate the bitch out of your little twink ass and you know it!”

“Oh my fucking god.” Timothy could not help himself from blurting. He hated  _ literally everything  _ about this conversation.

Rhys silently winced as the chair hit against his bad leg. He felt a little bad for Timothy, but no way was he going to let Jack win this one. "Excuse me, I am a twunk you hear? _ A twunk,  _ Timothy would you PLEASE tell your brother that he isn't as cute as he thinks he is?"

_ Jack thinks he'd top _ ... no way would Rhys let that happen. He'd just love to see Jack squirming underneath him  _ and where the hell is this train of thought taking him? _ Rhys quickly shifted tracks. He'd strangle Jack or something. Yeah, that's what he meant. 

"You?!  _ A twunk?  _ I didn't know you were a comedian but you are making me lose my mind here! You  _ wish  _ you were a twunk, where are the fucking muscles Rhysie?  _ Where are they?"  _ Jack demanded and leaned around the seat to look at Rhys in the face, only for the car to stop.

"Can both of you _ shut the fuck up?  _ We are here,  _ get out!" _ Timothy snapped as he parked the car in the motel parking lot. He bashed his head against the steering wheel to vent his frustration with the current conversation.

The resulting honk was deafening.

Rhys jumped at the noise, grumbling but resolving to return to this topic later. He opened the door and was immediately horrified with what he saw. A run-down, shabby motel that gave off the vibe that you would get mugged if you even breathed funny. Rhys had to stay in some unsavory places before, but he had standards. He needed to be somewhere he could be sure wouldn't have bedbugs at the very least. This place looked like he could discover a whole new species of them.

He prayed the inside would be nicer, but his hopes were not high. "Is this really where you're staying?" He gave Timothy the side eye, "no offense, but  _ really?"  _

“Yeah, so?” Timothy asked as he peeled his head off the wheel, opened the door, and stepped out. “If you don’t like it you are more than welcome to leave.”

“He’s just a prissy little vampire who wants to go back to his big, fancy, and evil victorian castle.” Jack chuckled, also stepping out. “Awww look at me! I’m Rhys, I’m some spoiled rich vampire who cries over ripped clothing! I need my outfit to be perfect and luxurious or I won't go outside! I need every place I stay to be a 5 star hotel or I won't go! Wah wah wah!” 

_ Wah wah wah? _ What was Jack, 5? Rhys was almost embarrassed by the fact they were about the same age. "Oh I'm so sorry that I have actual standards, unlike you. Sorry you're too uncultured to enjoy the finer things in life." He pouted, heading towards the entrance, "and yes I will get upset over my ruined clothes because I like my clothing a lot, thank you very much!" He called back before rushing ahead. A gentleman knew the importance of a good wardrobe. Further proof of Jack being some sort of barbarian. Timothy was slightly better, at least in the manners regard, but still. No taste among the two.

Rhys sighed and rubbed his temples. He needed a shower. Between the wolf blood and the garlic, which he sneezed once again at the thought of, he could use the full force of a fire hose to get all the smell off him.  _ Stupid sensitive vampire nose, why did it have to betray him?  _

Timothy rushed up behind Rhys. “That’s not our room. Come on, it’s this one.” He said as he directed Rhys to the door next to it. He clearly hesitated before he used the key.

The vampire standing next to him figured he was most likely the reason for it. It’s not everyday a hunter shares his abode with a monster.

When Timothy finally opened the door the smell of a horrible, gross, cheap motel room wafted into the trio’s nostrils. The twins were beyond used to it at this point and almost found a sense of comfort in it, though they knew Rhys wouldn’t feel the same way. 

Rhys scrunched up his nose at the smell of the motel. Not wanting to bring on another bout of teasing, he sighed and figured it would have to do. 

Jack snickered. “The hell is your plan on what to do about your clothing, sweet cheeks? Cause as far as I can see,” he lifted a piece of blood stained fabric, “you look like a whole lot of hell.”

Rhys hit Jack’s hand away and smoothed down the fabric. “Easy, I’ll just borrow whatever of yours is the least atrocious.”  _ More like steal. _

"Oh? Borrow my clothes, huh?" Jack plopped down on one of the two beds, kicking his legs up and cupping the back of his head in that real asshole-ish manner he was known for, "good fucking luck. Even if I let you do that you'd never like any of my shit enough to put it anywhere near yourself, because you are a pompous brat. Just try to prove me wrong; you can't." 

Rhys ran his hand through his hair, preening himself vainly. “It takes a talent like myself to make art from garbage.” There was no way he was going to stay in these blood-stained clothes. Whatever he could pilfer from Jack would have to do. 

“Now unless you  _ want  _ me to walk around naked I suggest telling me where you keep your ‘shit.’” Rhys’ chest fluttered as he said that, immediately regretting giving Jack ammunition for more teasing. He looked away, trying to look busy rummaging through the room.

Jack’s eyes lit up and he immediately took the bait. “Awww Rhysie, you know I wouldn’t judge. There’s nothing wrong with walking around naked every once in a while! Happens to the best of us,” he grinned mischievously, “and maybe I would like to see it. Sounds like it’d be quite the show.”

“That’s it, I’m going to go unpack the truck!” Timothy bolted for the door. There was nothing to unpack. He just needed freedom from these two.

Rhys found himself hissing under his breath at Jack's comment. He picked up a towel strewn about among the things, it wasn't the cleanest, but it would do. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Well, that's gonna happen over my dead body." He refused to show Jack the flush in his cheeks and instead continued to rummage through his things. 

He opened a drawer to find a few clothes. "Hey, are these yours or Timothy's? I don't want to steal from the guy who has been actually civil with me." The two had a similar... messy kind of style. That was the nicest way Rhys could put it. He wasn't quite familiar enough with them yet to tell it apart. 

Jack could see what Rhys was holding from his spot on the bed. It was Timothy's clothes, but Jack wasn't about to let Rhys know that. "Oh yeah, those are 100% mine. No, don't ever touch those, oh what a  _ tragedy _ it would be if my clothes were stolen by a twinky little vampire! I'm in tears already." Jack lied, knowing  _ no one _ was immune to reverse psychology. 

Incredibly, it didn’t work. It was pretty obvious to Rhys that Jack was being melodramatic. Rhys’ nose had cleared up by this point so he picked up one of the hoodies just to make sure and took a whiff. There were traces of Jack's scent, which he would never admit he liked, but much stronger was Timothy's. "Smells too nice to be yours. When's the last time you showered by the way?" He put the hoodie back and kept looking. 

In the next drawer he found a soft yellow sweater. It smelled heavy of Jack, and looked well worn. He grinned, liking the idea of stealing the hunter's favorite clothes. "How about this one then? Bet it'd look good on me." 

Jack scrunched his nose. Rhys found his favorite sweater; the one with the Hyperion logo scrawled across it. His favorite luxury brand of clothing which he somehow got a hand of after murdering a guy who could afford it. 

"Yeah... bet you'd look real cute in Timtam’s clothes." No he didn't want Rhys wearing that, but he wasn't going to act like he cared. Nope, he had too much pride.  _ It's just a stupid yellow sweater... It's just a stupid yellow sweater.... _

Rhys smiled, Jack was so obvious it hurt. “Well you should thank Timothy for me when he gets back. Tell him I really appreciate him letting me wear it.” He snickered at the little victory as he snatched his loot and slipped into the bathroom.

He turned on the shower, full blast and hot. Surprisingly the water pressure was decent for such a crappy motel. Rhys stripped down, looking sadly at his button up before tossing it in the trash. He’d have to bill Jack for the ruined clothes. He stepped into the shower, letting the water seep into his skin. The blood and grime circled the drain.

Rhys began the process of bathing, running a hand over his naked body. He was thin, sure, but he wasn’t weak looking. Years of life on the run had helped rid him of the softer bits he once had. That, and the thirst. He couldn’t keep up with it sometimes. Before Jack found him with his prey he hadn’t eaten in too long. If the scumbag hadn’t come along he would have had to do some...  _ unsavory _ things.

He shook those thoughts off, instead focusing on getting himself cleaned off. He extended his claws so he could scrub the werewolf scent lingering underneath them. There was one of those little plastic shower gel bottles, and he used about half the bottle making sure he was good and clean. Who knew when his next opportunity would be? 

Rhys heard muffled conversations through the thin walls. Timothy must’ve come back in. He tried straining his ears, but he couldn’t catch what they were talking about. He shrugged and continued his shower, determined to use up all the hot water before Jack’s turn.

He thought back to the start of all this. Why did he decide to make a debt with Jack in the first place? He could still feel the magic, settled somewhere deep inside him.

He guess he just didn’t like how he... lost control while fighting Jack. How close he had come to attacking randomly again. He had to do it to survive, but it wasn’t pleasant. Vampires were monsters, and if someone is out there getting rid of them, who was he to stop that? He might have thought differently if he knew what Jack really was like.

Well, all the other vampires he’d met were pricks anyway.  _ Especially _ the first two. He flexed his talons at the memory.

He sighed, not wanting to dwell on the past. Instead he focused on the hot water flowing over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw thank you everyone for ur comments thus far im personally kinda shitty with replying but they all make me very 🥺 so thank youuuu


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important thing to note here: regular non-borderlands sirens exist in this universe but like... the classic mythological beings. You know, like bird fish ladies who lured sailors to their doom through the power of their voice. 
> 
> regular borderlands sirens still exist but they had to get renamed and stuff but... thats a whole thing for another chapter. anyway, onto the fic!

Jack grumbled after Rhys disappeared into the bathroom. That vampire was so damn frustrating. The 40 something year old kid should be dead by now, why the fuck was he still scrambling around? And now he was frustrating Jack sexually and it was horrible.  _ Why didn't anyone think about how Jack's dick felt about things? _ It was annoying.

Timothy came back into the room a minute a few minutes later, Jack figured he probably heard the shower run from outside due to the paper thin walls in this piece of shit building. 

"So Rhys is in the shower now, huh?" He asked, checking both ways.

"You betcha. When he comes out, tell him the yellow sweater he stole is yours and you want it back." Jack grumbled.

"Heh, I'll think about it." Timothy wasn't going to do any such thing. Part of being Jack’s sibling meant he had to take Jack’s failures as wins when they came around.

"Anyways," Timothy continued and sat down on the bed next to Jack's. "You want to tell me the real story of why he's here? The car ride wasn't exactly as enlightening as I hoped it’d be."

Jack crossed his arms and looked away from Timothy. "The kid is a total nutcase. He cast some magic vampire shit on me."

Timothy placed his face in his palms. "Alright, let me try putting the pieces of the puzzle together. You got cocky, thought you could sadistically prolong the fight, the vampire got the upper hand, and before you know it you fell victim to a debt."

Jack hated how easily his brother figured it out. "First of all, how the hell do you know about debts and why’d you never bother to tell me? Secondly, He didn't get the upper hand. Where did you get  _ that _ idea?"

Timothy rubbed his temples. "Jack, Jack, Jack... you are going to be the death of me. You realize that, right?" He sighed, "I know about debts because unlike you I do my research. Besides, it was easy enough to figure out based on the whole… kiss thing you mentioned. Anyways, what were the terms of the debt exactly?" 

Jack crossed his arms. The stitches were still in it, but whatever Timothy gave him to heal his shoulder definitely fixed his little arm problem as well. "He said he'd save my life and in return I'd have to... I dunno, not kill him? Look, I thought it was horseshit and I was just going to let him be a little sucker and help his murderer get back to health just to stab him in the back. I didn't expect his stupid little vampire magic to actually work!"

Timothy was quiet for a second, thinking over the information given to him. "Do you know why he wanted to keep you alive?"

Jack frowned. "Kids probably got a crush on me. Why wouldn't he? No one can resist me, it’s a real curse sometimes."

"You realize this 'kid' is probably centuries older than both you and I, right?"

Jack didn't bother trying to correct him. “Listen, the point is this: the prissy little princess healed me and suddenly no matter what I do I can't stab him, shoot him, rip his organs out, anything! I can't fucking kill the guy, do you know the agony I'm in right now? Now that he made it  _ so _ personal I can't leave him until he's dead, and I can't kill him, do you see the problem here?"

"A picture is being painted," Timothy nodded, "so basically, he healed you for reasons unknown and cast a spell on you causing you to be unable to kill him. Your reaction to this is instead of doing the normal thing, like go your separate ways, is sticking with him and waiting for your chance to kill him out of spite?"

"Yes! Exactly, thank you for getting it!" Jack clapped. "That’s where you come in! Now, you see, I got a bit of a plan." 

“A plan?" Timothy snorted.  _ "You _ have a  _ plan? _ That's news to me."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Come on! I always have great plans, some of our greatest kills were because of my plans!"

Timothy rolled his eyes right back. "Whatever you say Jack, just tell me what you’ve thought up."

_ "Well," _ a sly look came over Jack’s eyes and he grinned mischievously, "sadly, I can't kill Rhys. This is a huge tragedy that I have been mourning for the last few days, it sucks, but it's a thing I have to deal with. You however, don't have any stupid debt thing hanging over your head. So, what I'm saying is, you kill him!" Jack slapped him on the shoulder. 

Timothy crossed his arms. "Now why would I do that after he saved your life?"

"Didn't you just hear me? I said because I can't do it myself, so you do it."

"But he saved your life."

"So?"

"Twice."

_ "So?" _

"Not even a little bit thankful for that?"

Jack leaned back, exasperated. "Timmy, you know I'm not sentimental like that. Just kill him for being a vampire! You know how it is." He then smiled, smug, as he remembered the perfect way to convince Timothy.

"Besides," Jack grinned like a shark, "he told me he was going to kill you and Angel." 

Unfortunately for Rhys, he chose that exact moment to walk out of the bathroom, proudly wearing Jack’s sweater with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. He had left his gloves off for now, considering how the two already knew about the arm situation. His hair was still wet, slicked back in its usual style. 

Rhys heard the last word: Angel. The name in Jack’s contacts.  _ Oh crap...  _ he forgot about the whole threatening to kill Jack’s daughter thing. He was being way too careless around Jack actually. 

“Uh... hey guys, whatcha talking about?” Rhys’ eyes darted between them and the door. Sunrise was too close to run. Why did he keep making things worse on himself? 

Timothy looked up from the bed at the vampire who had just entered the room. 

"Jack was just... making up bullshit and feeding it to me like always. Don't worry about it; I'm not falling for a single word he says," he turned away from Jack, “you saved my brother’s life. I don’t care that you’re a vampire, that’s enough for me to trust you.”

"Oh c’mon, don’t get all sympathetic for monsters  _ now _ when I'm actually telling the truth!" Jack grabbed his brother's wrist and looked him in the eye, "that  _ thing _ right there," he pointed at Rhys, "told me that he was going to track you,  _ and Angel, _ down and kill you! All to make me freak out. Isn't that right, Rhysie?" 

Rhys sucked air through his teeth, cringing a little. He knew lying about this now would only kick his ass later.  _ People appreciate honesty, right? _ “So... I kinda did yeah... but listen, Timothy. Jack has a special talent of pissing me the hell off.” He glared at the man in question. “After he repeatedly threatened me and my friends’ lives I had to get back somehow.” 

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.  _ Yeah, it was all Jack’s fault.  _ Maybe he pushed too far but Jack shouldn’t have been such a dick in the first place. Besides, he should have been more careful with revealing things like family to an enemy. “He shouldn’t have called himself a DILF if he didn’t want me knowing he had a daughter. Not my fault you put your family in danger there.” 

Timothy’s expression changed and he looked at Rhys with a vague sense of betrayal. "So you... really did threaten Angel?" He clenched his jaw. "It’s one thing to threaten me and Jack but you don’t just threaten the life of an innocent girl who has nothing to do with any of this. I don't care how big of an asshole Jack is being, there really is no excuse for that."

Jack sneered next to Timothy. "Told you so."

Timothy ignored him and glared at Rhys. 

Rhys rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Oh come on, like I was actually gonna do it! I have way better things to do then go track down some nobody girl just because I’m pissed off.” He tried to meet Timothy’s gaze, but found himself being pushed away. 

There was something in Timothy’s eyes that told him he needed to stop right now or he would regret it. “Uh, sorry. I guess that was uncool of me.” He mumbled an apology.

If he was going to be honest with himself, Rhys didn’t care. He refused to budge in his mind that he was right. Why should he take the high road when Jack was deep underground? He just didn’t want Timothy deciding it would be easier to kill him. 

Timothy's mouth was a thin line. "How am I supposed to know if you are for real? Think about the situation I'm in right now. There is a vampire in my place of living who threatened my niece all because you lost your temper with Jack a little. What's to say you aren't going to lose your temper again and actually go through with tracking down Angel? Fine, you saved Jack’s life, but I don't have any _ real _ reason to trust you. Tell me why I shouldn't put a bullet in your skull and make sure you are never able to touch any helpless little girls?"

Timothy slowly got up off the bed as he spoke and Rhys could feel the bloodlust emanating off of him. Instinctively he took a defensive position, a slight hiss escaping from his lips. He clasped his hand over his mouth. “Shit! Sorry, I just...” 

The motel room was messy enough that there was a gun laying on the floor mere inches from where Timothy’s foot was. He could easily lean down and grab it in a moment’s notice. 

And Timothy looked ready to kill at a wrong move. 

“I don’t want to hurt a little girl,” Rhys decided to stick with words he meant, “I don’t go after little girls, or kids in general. It’s against my principles, honest.” He listened carefully to Timothy’s heartbeat, monitoring for any sudden changes. 

Timothy looked between Rhys and the gun on the floor, his mind clearly moving a thousand miles per hour. He looked conflicted, almost like a naive part of him he wanted to believe Rhys but knew he shouldn’t. That he should take the safe road out and simply just trust his brother and ensure his niece’s safety. It would be the reasonable option, surely.

Rhys was frozen in his defensive stance, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. His freshly cleaned talons extended slightly, ready for new blood. Timothy’s heartbeat was steady, resolute. Kind of like the man himself. Rhys didn’t know what that meant for his safety though.

And then the phone rang.

The tension broke somewhat, Rhys a little unsure what to do next. It continued ringing. “Are... you gonna get that?” He asked apprehensively. 

Timothy eyed Rhys, the gun, and his ringing phone. The default ringtone echoing through the room ominously.

It was... odd to say the least, Jack knew Timothy didn't have many contacts. He just had Jack, Angel, Athena, and Jack's ex-wife listed on there. Everyone else he talked to typically didn't have conversations long enough to even bother with saving the information, that kind of privilege was for people who didn't live a hunter's lifestyle. 

Why someone calling him at this particular moment was anyone’s guess.

Timothy moved to pick it up. The screen lit up before his eyes and displayed a message that said "UNKNOWN NUMBER". 

"Hello?" He answered, his voice uncertain. 

Rhys listened in with his vampiric hearing to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the line.

"Yeah, no I'm on the phone right now hang on." A woman’s voice spoke before she took a breath. "Hey, are you Timothy? Got your number from Athena. I need to talk to you about something important." Her voice was rough and confident, yet something about it seemed to flow with syrup. It demanded attention, like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. Like you should just trust in her and not worry about anything else. 

Which was a bad sign for anyone involved listening to her. Anyone who was human, that was.

"Yes...." Timothy droned in a monotone voice. His eyes went round like saucers and his entire being was transfixed by the melodic voice coming from the device in his hand. "I'm Timothy. Talk to me, I'll listen to every word you say... promise." 

The woman groaned, clearly used to this sort of behavior. "Listen I know you're a little mushy right now but if my intel is right you're gonna wanna hear this. What I know is you're somehow a way to get in contact with Handsome Jack. And apparently, for whatever reason, that idiot Rhys has been seen very visibly with said Handsome Jack. Someone has been looking for those two, not sure what they want but I'm guessing it isn't good." There was another voice, too muffled for even Rhys to hear clearly. "I said hang on Sash." 

She sighed. "I need you to let Rhys know to watch his back okay? He isn't picking up his phone so this is my only lead. He can't die before he replaces the plate he broke. Oh, and tell him that he really needs to get better taste in men too." The second voice laughed in the background. "You got all that?" 

Tim stood and drooled, completely hypnotized. The information was taking a second to load into his brain.

"What's the freakin' hold up?" Jack shouted, finally having enough of sitting back being quiet. "You were just getting to the good part! Come on, get off the phone, Timmy."

Jack got up from his spot on his bed and stomped over to where Timothy was and yanked the phone from his hands. 

"Who the hell is this? Real cute how you think you can just call my brother when he's in the middle of murdering someone and make him drool like a donkey, but you just made the worst decision of your life pumpkin!" He barked into the phone. "Come on, speak up, we don't have all fucking night!" 

"Oh yeah, real nice." The woman scoffed, unphased by his threats. "I can feel you spitting into the phone from here. You ever hear ‘say it don't spray it?’" Another deeper female voice spoke up in the background, unintelligible for anyone to hear. The woman on the phone responded, "Really, his brother?" before going back to Jack. 

"Okay, so you're Handsome Jack, right? Rhys is with you?" She didn't wait for him to respond. "That dumbass really kicked the hornet's nest. Once your brother snaps out of it he can give you the details. They tend to latch onto every word in that state." She paused for a second. "Actually, one more thing. Rhys doesn't eat so I can only assume you were the one who raided our cupboards." There was venom mixed with the syrup in her voice. "That was my sister's chocolate. I'm gonna need some compensation for her disappointment." 

Jack, also, felt himself succumb to the power of her voice. However, this wasn't the first siren he's encountered and if there was anything Jack was better than Timothy at, it was resisting a siren’s voice. He wasn’t amazing at it, but better.

"Alright sexy lady...." His own voice came out sounding as if he were drunk. "You a friend of Rhys'? Aww, you must be the...'' he giggled, siren's tended to have that effect on him, "you must be the chick who owned that house! The one where we," his giggling fit was getting worse, "where I ate all your food and threatened to kill you! Awwwwww I-'' he wheezed, "I'm actually, It's funny but I was _ just  _ about to watch TimmyTamm kill your friend Rhysie-Physie soooooooo..." 

Rhys winced a little as he listened to the whole thing go down. He silently thanked Fiona for the save. He grabbed the phone out of Jack's hands, amused at the two hunters being reduced to such a state. "Fiona, hey, glad to hear from you."

"Rhys, what the hell did you do?" He could hear her seething. He finally could hear enough to recognize it was Sasha's voice in the background but he still couldn't make out what she was saying.

"So uh, funny story," he laughed nervously, one of the benefits of being a vampire was his immunity to siren voices. "Handsome Jack tried to kill me and instead of killing him I decided to use the debt magic to keep him from murdering me. Long story short I threatened his family and am now stuck in a shitty motel with him and his hunter brother." He blurted everything out, finally hitting just how badly he fucked up. "Oh, I'm screwed, aren't I?”

Fiona let out a deep exhale. "Listen, that's great and all, I really hope you don't die, whatever. Not why I called." She didn't seem too worried. Knowing Rhys for this long meant knowing that he was one lucky bastard, and if things did go to shit she couldn't risk her and Sasha's lives. That kind of detached relationship was necessary among supernaturals. "Not sure who you pissed off but there's someone looking for you, and Handsome Jack too." 

Sasha said something, and there was a rustling as the phone changed hands. "Rhys! You dick, why the hell would you bring a hunter into our house?!" 

Rhys glanced over at Jack, still mid giggle fit. He was worried about what he had just said, about Tim killing him. "Yeah, not really my brightest moment. I'll pay you back Sash, promise."

"You better!" There was the sound of the phone being handed over again, Sasha's voice getting farther away while rambling about something. 

Fiona’s voice returned. “She’s not gonna drop that you know.”

“Yeah… I know,” he changed focus, “what were you saying about someone looking for me?”

“I dunno, I’ve been hearing a lot of questions about someone who fits your description. Don’t know any other vampires with a freaky monster arm.”

“Wow, thanks Fiona. Calling your friend a freak.”

“Someone needs to be the voice of reason, we all know you don’t have one. Anyway, really don’t know much else. Rumor is there’s a reward involved but I don’t know for sure.”

“Well, doubt I’m worth enough to hire anyone decent. Thanks for the warning… but I think things will work out.” He tried to convince himself as well.

The confidence in Fiona’s voice wavered for just a second before she responded. "Just be careful. Sun's rising so you'll need to stay put for now. That first guy seemed pretty straightforward, maybe try reasoning with him. Good luck, Rhys." Click.

The conversation was short, too short, but it brought Rhys a wave of new emotions. Unease at the new threat, and relief that his friends were looking out for him. He looked between the two hunters who were still in their respective charms, and couldn't help chuckling a little. He sat down on the bed and decided it was safer to just let them come out of it on their own.

Though he couldn't resist messing with Jack. "Hey Handsome, is ‘Rhysie Physie’ my new nickname? Have to say, it's better than ‘kid’." 

Jack laughed even harder at that. "Get it! It's like the candies! Reese's Pieces, the peanut butter cup," He fell backwards onto the bed and rolled around giggling. "Because your name Rhys, Rhsysie,  _ Reeeeees’s Pieeeeces _ ... It makes perfect sense when you think about it!" There were tears in his eyes. 

"Uhhhhhhhh..." Timothy stared into the distance, looking as if someone turned the off switch on his brain. 

Jack's laughter was contagious, Rhys tried to stifle it at first but quickly burst into full force laughter. He put his head in his hands, struggling to breathe as his whole body shook. "Yeah it- hoo! It-it sure is!" Tears formed in his eyes as well as he continued to laugh. It was just so stupid. All this over his name sounding like candy. And Tim was just standing there not reacting at all! The ridiculousness of the situation just made him laugh harder.

Rhys let himself fall back onto the bed as well, trying to catch his breath. He was just enjoying the moment while he still could. 

The three of them spent a few minutes in that state, Rhys and Jack rolling around on the bed laughing uncontrollably, and Timothy completely dead to the world.

However, it didn't last long, and eventually Timothy began to blink. 

And with blinking, came the inevitable: Thinking.

He rubbed his eyes, they were a bit bloodshot and dry from not blinking for way too long. Once his vision came back, he turned around and looked at the other two in the room.

The other two who were currently rolling around on the bed losing their minds.

"You two okay?" He asked.

Meanwhile, Jack also was coming back to earth from his laugh attack. His giggling began to slow and he took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down.

Only to realize there was a laughing vampire laying on the bed right next to him.

"What the literal  _ fuck _ Rhysie???" He yelped, really unsure what to make of the situation. 

Rhys wiped the tears from his eyes, still howling with laughter. "You really... Ha! You-you!" He could barely speak, much less answer Jack's question. He took a moment to stop, just laying there and taking deep breaths.

"You two really," he snorted, "you really lost it there! You should have seen the look on both of your faces, wow. I knew their charm was powerful, but..." he choked down another giggle, counting the stains on the ceiling to try and calm down. "You lost your shit over some candy of all things," he glanced towards Timothy, not bothering to lift his head, "and you just shut off. I thought hunters would have some more resistance than that. By the way, there's a little drool on your chin." He beamed, the flood of good feelings still washing over him.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, letting one last chuckle escape before coming back to his senses. 

Timothy's hand instantly went up to his chin and wiped off the drool. His face went red with embarrassment realizing just how much saliva had leaked from his mouth.

"Uhh, let me just... um," he dashed to the bathroom.

That left only Jack still in the room with Rhys.

"Jeez cupcake, If I didn't know any better I'd say we just had sex...." He’d never admit it, but he too was a bit humiliated by how bad he was at resisting a siren’s voice. He turned away from Rhys and tried to sit up on the edge of the bed. 

Rhys had managed to stop the laughter, eyes fluttering open slightly. “Do you really need to keep fixating on that? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were coming on to me.” 

He stretched out, his long legs going slightly over the edge of the cheap motel bed. He frowned, but shrugged it off. He got comfortable, taking some deep breaths. Between the sweater and the bed Jack’s smell hung on Rhys’ nose, sending a shiver through the part of him that saw Jack as prey. 

Jack glanced back and saw the way Rhys was sprawled out. He looked almost cute with his legs all spread out and comfy in the embrace of the bed and Jack's sweater. A part of him almost wasn't even that mad that Rhys was wearing his sweater, almost. 

The sun was rising, which meant it was time for these creatures of the night to go to bed. Suddenly Rhys sat up and looked around the room and realized a small problem: there were only two beds. 

Jack also quickly realized the issue with there being two beds since one of them clearly was covered in Timothy's shit and the one he was sitting on was being occupied by a vampire.

"Come on, don't get too comfortable now. Up you go and onto the floor you go. Beds are for humans." He flopped back on the bed and tried to push Rhys off. 

Rhys yelped as he held his ground against Jack pushing. “Nope, no way. I’m _ not  _ sleeping on the floor like a dog! I’m staying right here.” He gripped the covers, holding on for dear life. 

“Why don’t you go share with your brother? That’s the easiest solution here.” Rhys nodded sagely. He knew Jack wouldn’t give up so easily though. 

For Jack the idea of sleeping in the same bed as his brother wasn't completely out of the question, it was a thing the brothers had to do frequently, but Jack wasn’t about to even entertain the idea now. He couldn’t let Rhys win, he was way too stubborn to allow it.

"You think me and Timmy can just share a bed? You think that's a thing we do, when there is a perfectly good bed right here?" Jack kept trying to push, but despite his muscles, vampires were simply a lot easier to fight when using guns. Basic human strength just didn't compare. "What ever happened to vampires sleeping in coffins? Go find a coffin!  _ Go!"  _

Rhys fumed, pushing back a little. “What century are you living in? Why would I want to lie in a cold dusty coffin when there’s a soft bed right here?” If he couldn’t get Jack to leave, then he would at least get him to stop trying to kick him out. 

An idea popped into Rhys’ head. “Oh I see how it is, my vampiric charms are too much for you and you’re afraid you’ll lose control of your more...  _ primal urges. _ Wow, and I thought I was the monster here. No wonder you kept talking about sex.” He smirked as he watched for Jack’s reaction. 

Jack's pouted. Okay, this monster was starting to get under his skin. Which was horrible, given how that was Jack's job to do to other people. The little shit was good. 

"Listen here, I don't care how hot and sexy your twink little body is, you aren't my type and we aren't going to fuck." Jack said it mostly to convince himself. "So get it out of your head that we are-"

Timothy stepped out of the bathroom and took one look at them and their spot under the covers. 

"Good morning. Don't fuck. Wake me at noon." He then slid under the other bed's covers and immediately passed out. 

Rhys grinned and pulled the covers over himself. “Good morning, Timothy.” He gave Jack a look that said _ try me  _ before disappearing underneath the blanket.

He said he didn’t do the coffin thing, but some part of him liked cocooning under the blankets. At least he didn’t have to worry about suffocating. 

Jack looked back at Rhys and grumbled. The monster scum said he didn’t want to sleep in coffins yet here he was cocooning under the blankets as if the bed were a replacement coffin in itself. If there wasn't something fundamentally cute about the entire concept of it, then nothing was cute.

The hunter sighed. How did he end up like this? He was in bed next to a vampire he tried to kill on multiple occasions. A vampire who somehow survived so many attempts that they were somehow now sharing a bed, and Jack didn't even fuck him! 

He wanted to keep giving it thought, but his body was tired. His mind was tired. There was no way he was going to succeed in kicking Rhys out now and his body was far too comfortable to make the trip over to Timothy's bed.

He closed his eyes and let his mind drift off to sleep. 

After all, it's been a while since he's done it willingly and not through passing out in random alleyways. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel that fiona and sasha as mythological sirens is really fitting for them being con woman and all. glad we got to see them, anyways, seeyall next chapter
> 
> btw happy 4/20 lol


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this chapter was a bitch to edit

Jack slept the entire morning away. By the time he woke he checked his phone to see that it was past noon. It was about 2pm to be exact, but the point was he definitely got his fair share of rest that night. 

He glanced at the bed next to him. Timothy was gone; his sheets were tossed around haphazardly in his absence. He probably went off to Tediore-mart for supplies. He never did sleep well and the guy hated being cooped up inside. Even if they didn’t need anything, Timothy leaving the motel early just to get out of the cramped room while Jack snored away was a typical occurrence. He didn’t pay it any mind. 

Instead, he rolled over and found himself staring at a pretty boy right in the face. 

_ Right.  _ He had just slept with a vampire. He had completely forgotten about that. 

Jack pushed himself up until he was sitting against the headboard of the bed. He looked down at Rhys, if Jack didn’t know any better he’d never guess that this was a vampire. 

He looked so... peaceful like this. The guy clearly wasn’t a calm sleeper; the sheets were tossed in all directions and Jack found it a bit funny given how the man had cocooned himself into the blankets just last night. Rhys’ hair was a complete mess, much different than the slicked back style he typically wore. Jack’d make fun of him for it, but he doubted his own coiffed hair had fared much better. 

In this state Jack noticed things he typically wouldn’t have; the way Rhys had pretty eyelashes, the softness of his lips, the cute expression he had as drool leaked from his mouth and onto the pillow… It’d be gross if it wasn’t so damn adorable. 

His mind wandered off to other things as he stared at Rhys. How had his life gone before he was a vampire? Back when he was a human, how was he like? Was he always this annoying and bratty or was it vampirism that destroyed his personality? His tastes in clothing implied that he had a rich and pampered upbringing… how did a guy like that even become a vampire anyway? Was he a college kid like his face suggested he was, or had he graduated and was preparing for the bright future he once thought he had ahead of him? It was almost tragic in a sense, what kind of life would Rhys have led if he remained a human?

_ What was with those thoughts? _ Was Jack actually feeling things for this monster? No, no he can’t. He was Handsome Jack, vampires piss their pants at the mere thought of him. Him being actually attracted to a vampire? Or even actually  _ giving a shit about them?  _ Ha, yeah right, more like attracted to the idea of killing them. 

He frowned. 

He pushed Rhys off the bed. 

Just like that Rhys was violently ripped away from dreamland to be met with the cold, musty motel floor. In a blind panic he began thrashing around in the sheets that came down with him. This only got him further tangled, and he yelped in panic. His body screamed at him that he was  _ under attack _ and he needed to either  _ fight or get out _ . His fangs shot out to their full length and his claws hooked onto the blankets like a cat on a curtain.

Another moment passed and Rhys regained awareness of the situation. He wasn't tied up, he was just on the floor for some reason. He looked up to where he was lying moments before to see Jack's face staring down at him. 

Rhys snarled. "Oh HAHA! Really funny!" It was the second night in a row Jack had disturbed his sleep somehow. The vampire was  _ not _ happy. He quickly detached his claws from where they had caught so as not to rip anything.

“Relax cupcake! Felt like it was time for you to get up anyway.” Jack leaned over Rhys from his position on the bed. “Do you even realize what time it is? Honestly.”   
  
Jack briefly considered being truthful about how it was only 2pm. He could let Rhys know that the sun was up and save him from the fate of burning up, but what was the fun in that? No, Jack had other ideas in mind...

“It’s 10pm outside kiddo, nice and dark for vampires like you to get up and get some fresh air! Come on, time's-a-wastin.”

This was either going to be a hilarious prank or a hilarious murder. Either way, Jack won.

Rhys was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Did I really sleep that long?" He grumbled before standing up and tossing the blankets at Jack. His brain didn’t even consider that Jack could be leading him astray. Instead he stretched and looked around for a mirror. He settled in front of the dresser, pulling his hair back as best he could. Stifling a yawn, he realized his fangs were still extended from the rude awakening and he willed them to retract.

“Oh yeah, you  _ totally  _ slept that long. Almost thought you died, for real this time, because it was that fucking long!” Jack’s smile widened.  _ Rhys was totally buying that it was nighttime, what an absolute sucker!  _ Jack truly was a master of deception. 

Rhys was still wearing Jack's sweater, the Hyperion logo was loudly displayed across it. He straightened it out and turned to face the other man. "Yellow isn't really my color, but I think this looks good on me. Do you think Timothy would care if I kept it?"

“Yeah, Timtam would care a lot if you kept it.” Jack averted his eyes away from Rhys; he hated how well he was pulling  _ his _ sweater off. “He really loves that sweater. He’d be a real cry baby about it, it could be really funny, so maybe you should keep it to really fuck with him.” He began gathering up his shit for the day. 

The sweater wasn’t half bad on him, but Jack figured Rhys was the kind of guy who could make suspenders look fashionable if he really wanted to. It didn’t change how Jack wanted that particular piece of clothing back and that Rhys knew that he wanted it.  _ Why was it that Jack was far better at deceiving Rhys when it came to what time of day it was opposed to things that actually mattered to him?  _

Rhys, on the other hand, was thinking about other things. He figured if it was nightfall then they really needed to get a move on. The warning from Fiona came back to Rhys’ mind, _someone was looking for them._ His best guess was it was most likely Vasquez’s wolf pack looking for revenge. He let out another yawn. Rhys wished he had some more time to wake up... his brain was always groggy after a good sleep. 

Rhys hummed to both wake up and calm himself. He ignored Jack as he finished fussing with his appearance. He looked around the room. “Do you have any idea where Timothy ran off to? It’d be nice if we have time for coffee before he gets back.” Rhys meandered over by the window. “Is he coming back soon?” He started reaching to pull back the curtain. “Though I’d rather not stay in one place longer than-”

One finger slipped behind the curtain before Rhys yanked his hand away like he had touched a hot stove. He shrieked, clutching his right arm to his chest.  _ “Fuck fuck fuck!”  _ He hissed, tears forming in his eyes as he looked down at his hand. 

Rhys’ right middle finger had turned to  _ ash _ . 

He crawled away from the window as quick as he could. There was only one explanation.

He whipped his head around to face Jack.  _ “You goddamn bastard!”  _ Tears streamed down his face, contorted with pain. 

Jack laughed like a bastard. “HAHAHA! You really did fall for it! I honestly thought you were beyond falling for that shit at this point. Like Handsome Jack, a hunter who wants to kill you, just told you it was nighttime, and you just _ believed him?!  _ Seriously Rhys, I know I’m charming but  _ wow,  _ you are naïve as hell.”

Rhys hissed, flipping Jack off with his remaining middle finger.  _ “Screw. You.” _ Why did he fall for that? How stupid was he?  _ Never trust Handsome Jack. It’s very simple!  _ Whatever sleepiness he had was gone now.

The space where his finger used to be was pulsing and hot. He’d been grazed by sunlight before, he knew the dangers. It had taken some skin off, but this was more than a graze, and  _ it hurt like hell. _

The muscles in his hand started tensing and loosening without his input. His other fingers were twitching unnaturally, talons sheathing and unsheathing.  _ Why did it hurt so damn much?  _ It felt like there was lava under his skin about to burn through. More hissing escaped his lips.

He grabbed it to try and calm down. He sat hunched up with his eyes shut tight. He tried to focus on his breathing. 

It still hurt but he felt control coming back. 

Jack continued to be as insensitive as ever. 

“That really got you good, now didn’t it?” He continued to cackle. “Look at you, missing a middle finger now, huh? Now there's all this ash all over the floor but I gotta say, that look on your face? Amazing, hilarious, wanna look up at me so I can get a better look at the pain on your face, pumpkin?”

Rhys’ focus was broken by Jack talking. He hissed again and his eyes shot open. _ “What. The fuck. Is your problem?” _ It was hard enough having to live with his arm like that. Being down a finger was not how he wanted to start his day. 

“Eh, remember, it’s not me who’s got the little vampirism problem, it's you. Don’t forget that.” Jack chuckled until his laughter finally calmed down. “Jokes aside, Rhysie....” he eyeballed the injury Rhys had sustained. The middle finger on his monster arm had completely disintegrated right down to the root. “That going to grow back like a lizard limb would or what?” 

“Shows me right!” Rhys cried, ignoring Jack’s jeers, “I should have known better! Hey, next time you’re bleeding out, remind me to leave you to  _ die.” _ He wiped the stub on Jack’s sweater and smeared ash over it. 

Jack cringed watching Rhys smear his nice sweater with his finger ash. “I’ll take that as a no, that’s cool, that’s fun. One less middle finger to flip me off with, am I right?” Jack pointed both of his own middle fingers up at Rhys, showing off how he could double flip him off while Rhys couldn’t, “and yeah, you were wondering where Timtam went? He went to the store, probably. He does that sometimes. It’s a really good habit of his because he buys shit for me!” 

Rhys felt sick and a knot formed in his chest.  _ Jack was an asshole and he was always going to be an asshole. _ Fuck whatever threat was looking for them, he needed to leave as soon as possible. 

Jack groaned at Rhys’ lack of reactions to what he was saying. He was clearly wasting good material on Rhys in this state. The guy wasn’t paying him enough attention, with his face contorted with agony like that. Jack got a real kick out of seeing it that way, but now that his laughter calmed down a bit he noticed something else in the back of his head. 

A little voice that said that he wasn’t enjoying Rhys being in pain nearly as much as he thought he did. 

Jack shoved that thought to the side.

Rhys forced himself to stand up, ignoring the dizziness from the pain. "What time is it really?" He reached for his phone, remembering that he lost it because of Jack. Frustrated, he clenched his fists. His remaining talons dug into his hand, piercing his skin.

“So you’re repeating the same mistake you just made and are asking me for the time again?” Jack teased playfully as if nothing happened. “It’s 2pm pumpkin, that's a little after noon for those of us who forgot how time works due to being allergic to sunlight. You don’t have to believe me, I wouldn’t, but the murder attempt went through. Why would I lie to you now?”

“You’d lie to me because you’re an ass.” Rhys’ voice was more dangerous than his teasing insults from earlier. "I've had nothing but bad luck since meeting you," Rhys snarled, "I never should have given a crap about you and your life. When sundown comes I’m  _ out of here." _ He had nowhere to go, but he didn't care. Heat still boiled under his skin, fueling his anger.

Rhys was going to get away from Handsome Jack and his family, and finally wake up from this nightmare. No more death threats and rude awakenings. No more risking his skin in fights. Back to normal.  _ Back to running. _

Jack made himself look busy and rummaged through his and Timothy’s clothing. He found the hoodie Timothy liked best and smiled to himself. _ If Timothy wanted his favorite hoodie back, then he’d have to cooperate with Jack and get Jack’s favorite sweater back. _ He proceeded absentmindedly to pick up a random pair of jeans as well.

He needed to get dressed and he was never one to be modest. Who knows? Maybe watching Jack strip would distract Rhys from his  _ annoying whining.  _

Rhys kept his eyes trained on the hunter as he began to strip, not willing to give any ground in Jack’s stupid games.

Unsurprisingly, Jack was attractive without the shirt on. He had just the right amount of chest hair and various scars all over. He was well-built without being freakishly muscular, he had to keep in shape to be a hunter after all. A hunter that kills vampires.

Rhys continued letting his rage bubble, refusing to let himself be distracted by whatever Jack was playing at. He kept his gaze hard and his brow furrowed. They had thrown up a lot of threats but neither had actually done anything till now.

Jack glanced back at Rhys and noted how he was glaring daggers at him. He didn’t seem like he was crying out in pain anymore but he also wasn’t letting it show how hot he found Jack to be. The vamp must have been stubbornly focusing on his hatred for Jack. That’s cool, Jack didn’t care. This was how their relationship should be;  _ pure, unbridled, mutual hatred.  _

He did miss Rhys’ teasing though. 

“You seem to be looking pretty intensely, like what you see?” Jack flexed his muscles, trying to rekindle some of the playful banter. 

Rhys didn't dignify Jack with an answer. He didn't deserve it. He let out a quiet growl, muffled through pursed lips. He just lost a part of him that he wouldn't get back. He felt like he was losing his normal arm all over again, triggering that same feeling of despair. The pain melded with that despair, fueling it, and growing into a deep pit which swallowed whatever feelings he had started having for the hunter.

He wanted to scream, but he couldn't let the hunter see him break apart like that. He willed the pit down, down, somewhere deep that Jack wouldn't see. He bottled it up. 

Rhys finally broke his gaze as one last tear streaked down his cheek, and he wiped it away quickly. He needed to regain his ground. "Fuck you," was what he settled on saying. It would have to do until he wasn't trapped in a room with him. 

Jack smirked, he knew Rhys was totally taking the bait, he just won't admit it. Jack was way too hot for anyone to resist and he was well aware of that simple fact. He gave one more flex before he slipped Timothy's hoodie on. Jack is here to give Rhys a taste, he’d have to earn it if he wants the whole meal. "Listen, there’s no need to cry over your finger. You still got nine of them left anyway." 

He readjusted the hoodie as he talked, he was totally stealing Timothy’s brand here, but that's what happened unless he complied to get Jack his sweater back. "I get that to you I can be a huge ass but come on, you're the monster. Meanwhile, I'm the hero and being a dick to monsters like you is part of what I do. Now quit being sad about it; it's stopped being funny and now you’re just being an annoying cry baby about it."

_ Nine fingers. Nine. _ Rhys snapped. “Yeah sure, I’m a monster or whatever, but you? _ A hero?” _ He let out a hollow laugh. “Some big hero you are, you’ve done a real great job! Terrorizing people and all that. You know, not every supernatural is evil. I’m sure there’s plenty of good folks out there that you’ve tortured and brutalized without a second thought.” His brown and blue eyes held a wildfire.

“If you really intended to be some hero, then you’re doing a shit job of it.” Rhys continued, “a hero is someone who protects others. All you know how to do is kill and almost die while I worry about you like some kind of idiot! Get a clue Jack, you're not the hero here.  _ None _ of us are.” He needed to get away from the hunter. He stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

He breathed heavily, clasping the edges of the sink with his  _ nine  _ fingers. Thankfully the mirror wasn’t silver and his reflection appeared in front of him, showing off his puffy eyes. 

“Rhysie, don’t be like that!” Jack shouted as the bathroom door slammed shut. “Every monster I killed deserved it, promise!” He slammed his fists against the door. 

There was one thing that stuck out to him from what Rhys had shouted at him. 

“Hang on, the hell was that you said about actually worrying about me, huh?” Jack asked through the door, murmuring it under his breath. He thought Rhys was only looking out for him because of the whole debt thing, but _ worry? _ That was something else entirely. That showed that someone cared. 

Something about that puzzled him but he couldn’t quite put his hand on it. 

Rhys tightened his grip. “Leave me alone Jack.”  _ Did that have to be the one part that actually registered in Jack’s mind? _ He turned on the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. “I’m leaving come sundown. Forget all this...  _ mess _ we have going on. I’m going back to my life and you can go back to yours.”

He took a deep breath, calming down a little. This was his own fault for sticking around so long. 

“The hell do you plan to do about those fuckers looking for you anyway?” Jack asked, crossing his arms as he decided to lean on the doorway, giving up on slamming his fists into it. “You got werewolves on your tail and you don’t have any money or belongings to your name. Hell, you don’t even have a damn phone right now! Everyone’s got a phone in this day and age,  _ everyone, _ ” he snorted, “you really think you can survive out there in this state on your own?” 

“I’ll figure it out.” Rhys didn’t have a plan. Without a way to contact his friends, he couldn’t get anywhere safe. However, it was simply too dangerous to stay here with Jack.

“Why do you even care? Are you trying to keep me close until you find some way to kill me?” Rhys leaned back against the door, sinking down and hugging his knees to his chest. He could hear Jack’s heartbeat on the other side. For a heartless bastard, he had such a soothing rhythmic beat. “It’s better this way.” He said more to himself than anyone else. 

Jack leaned against the door and tapped his fingers against the wood in thought. “Heh, yeah I guess it sure is. Then again, think about it, I’ve put all this effort into killing you, cupcake. We, what, spent a few days together? You got to meet my brother and well… at this point I can’t just let someone else kill you, can I? I called dibs, and I worked hard enough to deserve killing you at this point. You running off to get killed by some rando would defeat the purpose.”

Jack took a deep breath. “You’re  _ my _ kill.  _ Mine,”  _ he kicked the door as he spoke for emphasis. 

Rhys clenched his teeth, sadness turning once again into anger.  _ Jack really had to ruin everything by opening his stupid mouth. _

He slammed his palms against the door. "I’m not your entertainment, I'm not your plaything, and I’m  _ not your kill. _ Why do you think it's okay to say things like that?! Didn't anyone ever teach you _ any goddamn decency?!"  _

With his hands flat in front of him, he was once again treated to the sight of his missing finger. He huffed in frustration, allowing his talons to extend and raked them down the door for Jack to hear. "Just..." he started another rant, then let out a tired sigh, "can you just stop?" 

“You know what I think? You don’t actually want me to stop, you find my personality too charming. If I stopped, you’d get bored.” Jack ran his fingers through his hair. “I think you won’t actually leave for a very simple reason; deep down, you like being around me.” 

Rhys let out that hollow laugh again. There was _ nothing _ here he found funny. Jack was so self-centered that he thought that Rhys would still want to be around him after he caused him to  _ lose his damn finger. _ He stopped laughing and took in a sharp inhale. "You wanna know how I feel about you, Jack?" He banged his fist once against the door.  _ "I. Hate. You." _

Saying those words felt like someone had twisted a knife in Rhys’ gut. He wanted to crawl back into bed and just sleep this nightmare off, but there was no way he was getting back in the same bed as that asshole. He ground his teeth together, something to distract from the hollowness he suddenly felt.  _ He would not break down now. He was going to survive as he always had. One moment at a time.  _

A shiver went down Jack's back at the sound of Rhys' words.  _ "I. Hate. You." _ echoed in his head. They already established that they hated each other, but before it was somehow more playful, more fun. This felt like Rhys was driving a dagger straight into his back. 

"You know, you aren't the first Jack shitter to come around. I've dealt with people just like you my whole life." Jack growled. "I don't _ care _ about your  _ stupid finger _ . If you hate me that fucking much, just join the fucking club and  _ get out of here already."  _

"Oh I'd LOVE to get out of here! In case you haven't noticed by this whole incident, _ I'd die." _ Rhys stood up, breaking what little contact they had through the door. "Humor me, Jack. Have you considered that something might be wrong if people don't like you? Do you have _ anyone _ who cares for you outside of your brother?" These weren't the mock threats from back at the diner. Rhys desperately wanted to hurt Jack, and if he couldn’t sink his talons into him then there were other methods to use.

"Have you _ ever  _ considered  _ trying _ to be a better person? No wonder there was radio silence when you were away from your phone! You do nothing but hurt the people around you with your ego. Maybe I shouldn't have decided to let you live that night. The world would be better without  _ you  _ in it." There was intent behind Rhys’ words but the debt was heavy and present, reminding him that he couldn’t actually follow through on said intent.

Rhys moved as far away from the door as he could. He needed to stop before something bad happened while he was still stuck here. _ Just wait it out.  _ He let himself stew in his anger and hurt. 

Jack was quiet. He felt anger boil inside him.  _ This monster scum thought he could just talk to Jack like that? Just tell him that he was an unlikeable person? Fuck no.  _

Jack was all kinds of likable, and that wasn’t just the ego talking. He was  _ handsome, _ had  _ charisma, _ and was a  _ sex god _ . Meanwhile, vampires were demonic hell spawn who weren’t all that different from actual demons; he wasn’t going to let what Rhys said go to heart. 

He banged his fists against the door. 

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you shouldn’t have saved me, Rhysie! Now you have a pissed off hunter who wants nothing more than to rip your skin and tear your limbs off,  _ limb by fucking limb!” _ He snarled, his voice shaking with rage. “I’m Handsome fucking Jack and I’m,” he threw his body against the door, _ “well liked,” _ he tried the door knob, _ “and loved,” _ he kicked the door,  _ ”you fucking prick!” _

The sound of Jack trying to get in freaked Rhys out and he covered his ears. He reminded himself that Jack couldn't hurt him, not directly. That didn't mean it wasn't scary. He was trapped here till sunset and he needed to stop making the situation worse. 

Rhys was hurting in more ways than one and he wanted it to stop. He felt like he was going to cry again so he froze up. He knelt down with his hands over his ears and just... shut down. He couldn't deal with all this anymore.

He hoped Jack would just get bored and go away on his own if he didn't respond.  _ Just last a few hours...  _

Jack continued to abuse the door but the stupid piece of wood wouldn’t budge no matter what he tried. Jack growled in frustration. For a shitty motel, the bathroom locks sure were functional. That felt like utter bullshit to him, but what did he know?

He wasn’t going to get anywhere like this, not with this stupid debt tying him down. He clenched his jaw and, without another way to vent his anger, began kicking garbage cans and throwing luggage across the room.

“Stupid fucking motel doors,” he grumbled when his temper tantrum finally subsided. The room was a goddamn disaster, but he didn’t give a shit. 

Jack made his way back to the bed and laid down, deciding the best way to spend the rest of the day was on his phone and distracting himself from his various problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> f in the chat for rhys' finger. f


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bit of a transitional chapter but its fun

Rhys couldn't hear Jack anymore and was left alone with his thoughts. He didn't think for a few minutes. Just sat there in the mess of feelings he was having. 

The moment passed and the worries started to sink in. It felt like he was having an argument with himself. Running back and forth between his emotions and his logic, his mind raced:

You shouldn't have said that. 

_I don't care, he deserved it._

He hates you now. 

_Didn't he already hate me?_

You went too far. 

_My finger is gone._

You have nowhere else to go. 

_I'll figure it out._

Something bad is going to happen.

_So I'll stay right here until I can leave._

You shouldn't provoke him.

_He can't attack me._

He's going to find a way to kill you. 

_I'd like to see him try._

You should talk to him.

_No, I really shouldn't._

That last thought kept bouncing around his head. Why should he bother trying to fix things when he wasn't the one who screwed them up? Why did he want to apologize so badly when he wasn't in the wrong here?

Rhys wished he had some sort of distraction. He didn’t want to have to deal with these tough thoughts anymore, he switched tracks to making a plan for what to do once the sun went down. After running out of ideas for that he just let his mind go blank and stared at the wall. He leaned back and ended up falling back asleep. 

He woke up later with a sore back and a crick in his neck.

He needed to find out how much time had passed. The only way to do that though, was to leave the safety of the room. He took a deep breath, and as quietly as possible peaked out of the door. 

The moment before Rhys opened the bathroom door, knocking noises came from the front door. 

“I’m coming in,” spoke Timothy’s voice from the outside, “any vampires inside please step away from the door; it’s for your own safety.”

The door opened and shut soon after. For a guy who had the same upbringing as Jack and therefore had to teach himself the whole concept of manners and being considerate towards others, Timothy was pretty good at it. 

He dragged in two bags. One was a huge garbage bag in his right hand, and the other hand held more of a collection of smaller bags; all of which displayed the Tediore-mart logo on them. 

There was a gross smell wafting from the garbage bag. 

.... And that wasn’t even mentioning the blood splattered across Timothy’s jacket. 

As Rhys creaked open the door he was hit by the smell. He gagged, failing in his attempt to be stealthy. He was not ready to come out yet, but he felt like a deer in the headlights, freezing up at the sight of Timothy with what appeared to be a fresh kill.

The blood wasn't his. He could tell that right away, because it smelled _so wrong._ The sure sign of another monster was how clearly inhuman the blood was. It had none of the rich, comforting, metallic scent human blood had. With this particular scent he was having trouble putting his finger on what kind of creature it was. Perhaps it had something to do with how the blood was on the outside now. The corpse was already rotting in that large garbage bag.

Rhys hoped it wasn't anyone he knew. 

Jack perked up at the sight. He was still feeling like utter shit from the earlier argument and temper tantrum, but the sight of his brother with a fresh kill was enough to bring a smile to his face.

"Eyyy Timmy, whatcha got there pal?" He got up off the bed and grabbed the body bag, "and you got him all cut up already! Good job, I mean it sucks when you leave me out of the fun gorey part of the body chopping process, but this is less work for your big bro, so good job!"

"I wasn't going to make you cut up the body of _my job_ anyway. Do I need to remind you that you didn't want to help me with the wendigo job and decided to go off on a wild goose chase to find a vampire all by yourself instead?" Timothy shut the bag and pulled it away from Jack. " _My_ job. _My_ kill. Don't ask for part of the reward because you aren't getting it."

"Aw Timmy, don't be like that. I thought we were a team here, you gotta at least give me some part of the cut here, we're a dynamic duo after all!"

"That's just how it is Jack, especially with you bleeding out last night. It cost me the perfect opportunity to catch him early. Do you realize how hard these things are to track during daylight? Because it _sucks_ . It sucks _a lot."_

Timothy paused and looked around at the mess in the room, “This place looks like shit. Did you have another tantrum?” He noted the lack of a certain party member, "and what happened to Rhys? Did he leave?"

Rhys squeaked at the mention of his name, ducking back into the bathroom and closing the door. Timothy was just as dangerous, if not more, than Jack. He took down a _wendigo_ all on his own. Rhys usually tried to avoid them since they’re bat shit insane. 

If it was Timothy he encountered in that alley... Jack liked to mess around. That helped Rhys gain the upper hand, but if Timothy were the one to track Rhys down it could have _easily_ been him in that trash bag right now.

He pressed his ear against the wood to try and listen. He held his breath, straining to hear better. Rhys needed to know if he should be ready to fight or run. He wanted to know what Jack was thinking. 

Jack's face contorted with bitterness. "The kid is being an asshole. He thinks he can just insult me like that and get away with it...." anger fired up again in his chest at the thought. He didn't want to be reminded of Rhys. Not right now, maybe not ever.

"Is that so?" Timothy raised an eyebrow. "What did you do this time?"

"Hahah, I see through your tricks, Timmy. You trying to trip me up and get me to admit to being in the wrong again, huh?" Jack huffed. "Not gonna work this time around. Nope, the demon is being a shitty little asshole. The universe continues to tick on as this is the natural order of things after all!"

"Somehow, I doubt that's the whole story." Timothy dropped the garbage bag on the ground before dropping the grocery bags on the dresser. "Tell me what happened. You can't be this worked up over nothing."

Jack crossed his arms. "Why do you always default on the opposite side of me, Timtam? Can't you just trust me on shit? You're kinda a shitty brother, just letting you know."

"Maybe I don't have to be a shitty brother if you'd just tell me what happened so I can come to my own conclusions." Timothy opened one of the grocery bags and began pulling out its contents. "Go ahead and spit it out, I'm still forming my own opinions on the vampire, so if you really want me to kill him after all, just tell me the truth."

Jack began pacing back and forth behind Timothy. "What is there to say? The guy yelled at me and said I was a shitty person who was going to die and no one was going to ever give a shit about me when I do it. You know, basic shit that I never let go to heart, but the guy was being a real dick about it."  
  


Timothy turned to look at him, a puzzled expression on his face. "Are you... seriously letting a vampire's opinion of you actually get you down?"

"What? Fuck no!" Jack snapped. "Gods Timtam, you spend all this time with me, _and yet,_ clearly you barely even know me. I literally just said I didn't take it to heart! So why are you-"

"Sounds like something someone who took it to heart would say."

"Ugh, you are _the worst!"_ Jack groaned, "and give me that granola bar, I'm fucking starving." He swatted at Timothy's hand. 

Rhys breathed a sigh of relief at Timothy not instantly jumping to murder. He'd known Jack all his life after all. He probably knew pretty well the kind of situations the man would get into. 

He listened carefully to Jack's denial. If it wasn't true, Rhys was sure he would just laugh it off. But instead he was being defensive about it. Was Jack... actually hurt by what he said? Sure he had meant to hurt him, but he didn't think it would really get to him. The hunter had been mostly unfazed, or just angry, at the things he had said thus far. Not hurt. 

Rhys leaned harder against the door, trying to latch onto every word. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't closed the door all the way. As he pushed his weight against it the door swung open, leaving Rhys leaning on nothing and falling to the floor with a quiet "oof."

He looked up at the two from his laying down position. "Uh... hi?" Were the first words to come to mind. _Shit, they would absolutely know he was listening in._

“Well look who decided to show their ugly face again.” Jack grumbled, peeling the wrapper of the granola bar he nabbed open. “The sun went down, wanna try going outside again?”

“Not yet it hasn’t,” Timothy grabbed his own granola bar out of the box as well. “I get that you’re mad at Rhys, but I’d prefer not getting vampire ash all over the carpet, even if it is a shitty 30-dollar-a-night-motel. It’s just rude.”

Rhys scowled at Jack. _His first words were really just telling him to go die, huh?_ "Bit too late for that, Timothy." He held up his hand, wiggling his remaining fingers. He really did not want to go into detail with what happened and decided Timothy could probably figure it out from that. 

Timothy grimaced at the sight of Rhys’ middle-finger-less hand. “Jeez, tell me you just slipped and your hand just happened to fall under the curtains...”

Rhys picked himself up off the floor, brushing any dust off. "You can probably guess, but I'm more than a little upset about the whole situation. Please tell me it's almost sundown so I can get out of here already." He tried not to lash out at Timothy, but he couldn't help having some bite in his voice. 

“Oh yeah, _real travesty_. Rhysie is a clumsy guy, he should know better than to put his hands on hot stoves like that.” Jack muttered as he chowed down on his granola. 

Timothy glared at him. He then slapped Jack in the face. 

Rhys smirked at the fresh red mark on Jack's face. "Thank you, oh my god. I needed that." He was grateful Tim was here. As dangerous as the man was, being the only one going against Jack's _everything_ was driving him crazy. 

“Oh _come on,_ I didn’t do shit to him! He put his fingers there his-damn-self!” Jack swatted Timothy right back. 

“Yeah, you still had something to do with it though. I know the look on your face.” Timothy rolled his eyes and ignored the retaliation slap. 

Rhys huffed at Jack's claim of innocence. "Did you forget that you pushed me out of the goddamn bed, and then tricked me into thinking it was night? Wow old man, guess your memory is going early." Again, he used a voice filled with more venom than their earlier taunts. He tutted lightly and shifted to a more playful tone, "better be careful Timothy, Alzheimer's runs in the family." 

Rhys shifted from one foot to the other, full of anxious energy from being pent up in the bathroom for so long. He really hoped the sun would set soon. 

Timothy maintained his glare on Jack but found humor in Rhys' words. “Thanks Rhys, I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughed softly. 

“Listen pumpkin,” Jack directed his words towards Rhys, “the bed thing was your own fault for sleeping in my bed, and the sun thing? That’s also your fault for listening to what a strange, but charming and dashing man tells you. I get that it’s a common mistake to make, but I didn’t force your hand under that curtain. Now I know it’s a revolutionary idea, but consider that it might just be that lots of things are your fault. Some advice to help prevent moments like this in the future is next time maybe look where you’re going, mkay?” He rambled as he finished off his granola bar and dropped the wrapper on the floor. 

Rhys growled, but he should have known better. He’d let his guard down after the rude awakening. "There isn't going to be a next time." He crossed his arms, standing more confidently. "What part of ‘I'm leaving’ did you not understand? Screw your stupid games, _I'm done."_ He wasn't going to let himself get hurt again.

Rhys then huffed, grumbling to himself. "Now if the sun would just set. Best to get out before whatever trouble is headed our way gets here." Better to avoid danger in the first place, but Jack threw a wrench in that strategy. 

“That’s not the smartest idea ever, you’re going to want to hear about this.” Timothy picked up the granola bar wrapper Jack dropped and placed it in a trash can. “People are looking for you, you know that part already, but I went to the nearby Sanctuary to sell off some of the important bits of the Wendigo here and you aren’t going to like what I found out.”

Timothy turned to face Rhys and looked him in the eye. “Your bounty skyrocketed. There are two bidders, one group that wants you dead, and the other who wants you brought in _alive,_ and the group that wants you alive? Is some kind of millionaire. Every bid the other group puts on the billboard, they get beat out by thousands in seconds. Someone really wants you, _alive.”_

“Oh man, an alive bounty?” Jack whistled. “Those are _the worst_ , you are so royally fucked you have no idea, kiddo.”

Rhys' eyes nearly bulged out his head. _“What the hell?!”_ He could guess that one of the groups was Vasquez’s gang, but who else could he possibly have pissed off? He racked his brain trying to think back on the past few days. He hadn’t done anything in a while before meeting Jack, so it had to be _something_ they did.

Revenge for the guy he fed on? No, why would that be an alive bounty? He looked over at Jack and furrowed his brows. “It must’ve been when I was running exposed through the city with your stupid unconscious ass.” He hissed, Jack was giving him yet another headache to deal with. “Someone must’ve seen me and...” he rubbed his monster arm, “taken an interest.”

Rhys ran his hands down his face in frustration. “This is what I get for trying to be a better person, fuck!” _Why was the universe determined to screw him over for showing mercy?_ Damn his conscious, he should have just killed Jack and ran while he still could. 

“How much is the bounty anyway?” A wicked grin spread across Jack’s face, “because we do have a very alive Rhys The Vampire right here... and nothing in my debt says that I can’t just… oh, you know....” 

“No, that’s out of the question. Don’t even think about it. You might not have morals Jack but you know I am not into selling people to creepy fetishists. Nope, not going to happen.” Timothy’s skin crawled just thinking about it. 

“Okay, okay, but that doesn’t answer the question Timtam, and you know how much I like a good, straight answer.” Jack patted Timothy on the shoulder, “how much is the bounty really?”

Timothy rubbed his temples. “It's a little over a million, maybe more by now. I don’t know.” He deflated.

Rhys choked on his own words. He sank to his knees, face in his hands. _That was so much money._ Definitely the type of cash he, and any hunter, would risk their life on. Why was this happening to him?

_“A million!”_ Rhys cried out. He had been so goddamn careful all these years to stay out of trouble. To just live his life somewhat peacefully, and it was all crumbling down around him because of Handsome Goddamn Jack.

“A million?” Jack’s eyes went wide and a crazed look came over them. “That’s way too much for a twink like him! Are you for real, did we seriously just hit the jackpot here?”

Rhys groaned into his hands. “Why... is this happening, why, _why?”_ The idea of leaving at sundown suddenly became less appealing. If there really was such a high bounty, there was bound to already be people looking for him. With no phone, no money, and nowhere to go he was royally screwed. Which meant...

_He’d have to be stuck with Jack._ Rhys let out another groan. _He was so screwed._

“No, no, no, Jack, quit it,” Timothy countered, “I don’t care if it’s a billion dollars, I’m not selling anyone into slavery or whatever so quit it!”

“Come on Timtam, you gotta stop thinking so negatively about these things! Pessimism isn’t a good look on you.” Jack gestured wildly with his hands. “Stop thinking the worst of people, maybe a billionaire just wants to be Rhysie’s friend! It happens, you can’t just rule it out.”

“Jack, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard get said.” Timothy rolled his eyes. 

“Do you _not_ want to be a millionaire Timmy?” Jack cried. “Think about all the zeros that can be added to our bank accounts! Think about all the _zeros!”_

Rhys felt sick to his stomach as the two debated his fate. “Can you _please_ just shut up for a second? I’m trying to process this and that isn’t making it any easier.” He clenched his eyes shut. “Thank you Timothy, I’d rather not be kept as someone’s pet vampire.” He might not have done the same in that position.

He took a moment to wrangle all the thoughts racing through his head. _Jack, the debt, the fight, Timothy, the bounty, Vasquez, the werewolves, and now this mysterious other party._ It all felt too much to handle. He took a deep breath.

Whether or not the hunters decided to take the bounty, they still couldn’t stay here. Others would come and try to claim it. 

"You can have all the time in the world to process it as you're on your way to-" Jack got cut off by Timothy elbowing him in the stomach.

"Be respectful," Timothy hissed, "the guy is going through a lot."

"Why are you on his team here?" Jack grumbled, "he threatened Angel! You were two inches away from killing him last night but conveniently forgot all about it the moment some chick talked to you and made you feel all drugged! What's so bad about selling him off as some pet or whatever for some sicko? It sounds like a just punishment to me."

"Listen Jack, I’ve had all day to think about it. Here's the conclusion I've come to: I wasn't in my right mind last night. Threatening my niece is something I can't forgive... but I don't get the feeling Rhys was ever going to actually do anything about it." Timothy looked at Rhys with pity in his eyes. "Speak for yourself Jack, but I prefer to keep the hunts I kill to be monsters who actually deserve being taken down. He saved your life twice, Jack. There are bad vampires and it’s our job to get rid of them, but I don't get the feeling that he is one of them."

Timothy leaned down to be eye level with Rhys and his position on the floor. 

"I know I can't say the same about Jack, but I'm on your team." He lent Rhys a hand. "I can't promise anything, but I'll do what I can to help get you out of this. It's the least I can do for you since my brother would be dead without you." 

Rhys looked into Timothy’s eyes, confused and touched by the genuineness behind them. “But... why would you risk that?” He didn’t, no, he couldn’t understand. They had just met and Rhys’d been nothing but his awful self, and yet Timothy was still extending this kindness.

There had to be some sort of motive. For a stranger, and a human hunter no less, to be so willing to help him... it set off all his warning signs. However, Timothy’s voice was so gentle, he couldn’t help ignoring them. He had so few people he could count on… it was kinda nice. 

Rhys choked back a sob, refusing to start crying again but it was just so much. “Thank you...” his voice cracked but he managed to keep his eyes dry. 

Pain tugged at Jack’s heart watching Timothy and Rhys’ cute moment on the floor. His face heated up and he could only identify this emotion he was feeling to be one thing: jealousy. 

Which was ridiculous, why would Jack feel jealous over his own brother bonding with the vampire Jack was about to sell for a million dollars? 

_You don’t actually want to sell him,_ said an annoying little voice in Jack’s head, _you don’t actually want to kill him either._

Jack felt an overwhelming urge to rip his hair out and scream. 

“Get off the floor you two, this is freakin’ embarrassing to watch.” He muttered, turning his head away. He felt that if he’d watch any longer he might not be able to control his sudden urge to stab his own brother. 

Rhys jumped up to his feet, smoothing out his hair. He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed at his moment of vulnerability. He needed to remember he was still here with Jack and the men were both still hunters, people who killed his kind for a living. Being charming handsome men didn't change that fact.

"Okay," Rhys clasped his hands together, a little more awkward than usual with the missing digit. "We need a plan," he glared over at Jack, "even if you want to try and sell me off to the highest bidder, we still have to deal with the whole people-coming-after-us situation." He brought his hand to his lips as he thought, mindlessly playing with them. "The wolves are probably still pretty ticked off at both of us, but maybe you could convince other hunters to leave us alone. You've got quite a reputation, do you have any sway among them?" 

Rhys couldn't see Jack being some big leader, but he had to have some influence after being in the game this long, right? Then again, maybe everyone hated Jack and were more than happy to take his hunt. Rhys hoped that wasn't the case, but this was Jack they were talking about. He lightly bit the thumb that was resting on his lips in worry. 

“Oh, other hunters? They’re all a bunch of assholes. They would totally throw me under the bus at any moment and I’d do the same to them right back.” Jack rummaged through a grocery bag. Timothy didn’t get any pretzels. _Why the fuck didn’t Timothy get any pretzels?_

“The good news is, most are too damn afraid of me to do anything.” Jack opened a Torgue energy drink and chugged it. “They’ve seen all the bounties I turn in. How I’m a huge fuckin’ hero and got a reputation of not taking well to people trying to claim what I’ve claimed.” He swished the drink in his hand and leaned on the dresser in the room. “As long as they know I’m on a certain case, the majority of them won’t touch them, but there’s always idiots.”

“And these idiots are becoming bold because you also got a bounty on you, idiot.” Timothy stood up as well. “The werewolves have got to have moles in Sanctuary, they must have been the ones to put up the bounty for you. Lucky for me enough people around there know the difference between Timothy Lawrence and Jack Lawrence or else I might not be here right now.” 

Rhys raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know hunters could get bounties. I thought they only get put out for supernaturals." Then again, what he knew about hunters had only been from rumors and Athena. If he ever tried to enter a sanctuary he was as good as dead. 

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up a fucking second,” sputtered Jack, “Timmy you were just going to save this important info until _just now?”_ He scoffed, “because, yeah, I know people want me dead, but I didn’t think they were willing to fork over enough money to _do_ something about it. What’s the price for my head? I’m dying to find out.”

“Enough to make it important that we stick together as a team until this all blows over. I tried to be careful, but who knows if anyone has been following me after I left Sanctuary. Point is, we could use a vampire on our side here.” Timothy yanked the drink out of Jack’s hands, “and save this. I have no idea when’s the next time I can get us supplies now that we have to go on the run.” 

“Ya should have bought pretzels then, jackass.” Jack muttered but didn’t fight against Timothy.

Rhys decided to shift everyone’s attention away from pretzels and back to the matter at hand. "I’m good with a team-up for the time being, as long as Jack doesn’t try anything stupid. As much fun it would be to ruin this sweater I would rather we avoid getting into fights and nearly dying." He adjusted his collar slightly, a smirk spreading across his features. "We can only outrun them for so long. My usual hideouts are probably the first place they'd check for us, and I doubt yours are any better." 

"If we're dealing with werewolves..." Rhys hesitated, glancing over at Jack. "I've got a guy who might be able to help us over in Pandora, the next city over. Not sure where else would be safe, however," he lifted a taloned finger and pointed it at Jack threateningly, "I need some assurance you aren't going to pull the same shit as before. I don't care if we both go down, you even look funny at my bro and mark my words _you are toast."_ He didn't want to involve Vaughn in this mess, but he was probably the only one willing to stick his neck out for him at this point.

At least, Rhys hoped he was. A million dollars was a shit load of money, even by bro standards. 

Jack groaned. "Listen cupcake, I'm making no promises, a monster is a monster and monsters deserve to-"

Timothy stomped on Jack's foot, silencing him.

"He'll behave. I'll make sure of it." Timothy stated while Jack bit back his need to scream over his newly stomped toe. 

"It's not like I actually did anything," Jack hissed through clenched teeth, “to those siren bitches."

Rhys snickered, “I doubt you could even if you wanted to. You’d be too busy having a giggle fit.” Though they hadn’t actually come face to face, who knew what might have happened then. He was going to lead Handsome Jack straight to his best bro. 

He doubted his decision for a moment. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” Rhys was worried, thinking about all the threats Jack had made. “Thank you Timothy, but Jack, you’re a psychopath. I don’t want you near my friends. Let’s think of something else.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his temples. There had to be another option... _so why couldn’t he think of anything?_

"Now, psychopath is a very strong word here. Shame on you Rhysie for just throwing it around on anyone who just happens to enjoy murder. What are you? Some kinda ableist?" Jack chuckled. The pain from his toe was finally ebbing away but _wow_ it sucked when Timothy did this to him.

"Jack, shut up. Rhys is right; I've been saying it forever but you shouldn't like murder so much. It isn't healthy," Timothy lectured. 

"’Not healthy’?” Jack repeated, “come on, think about all the innocent humans who are happy and healthy now that there are less demonic hellspawn walking planet Earth!" Jack muttered, "A hero is what I am and I'm not going to say sorry for saving people. That's just not a me-thing to do."

"Whatever you say, Jack. Let's see if you can prove it by not killing Rhys' friend." Timothy turned around and began packing his clothing and various belongings. "Anyways, we don't have all the time in the world to lounge around here. Everyone, get your stuff together. Regardless of where we decide to go, we need to move out the moment the sun goes down." 

Rhys sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for fighting with Jack again yet. “No stuff here. I’m ready whenever you are.” He thought sadly of the bag left behind at the diner. He really missed his phone, he put a lot of work into that thing. Yeah, it was a Frankenstein of parts stolen out of other people’s phones, but it was his. Starting from scratch was gonna be rough. He had grown dependent on what was basically a mini computer as his one access to tech. People who didn’t have to live on the run were so lucky. He missed the desktop he built before he turned. 

If they did go to Vaughn’s then he was going to need some serious screen time after being away so long. After they figured out what to do about everything that was going on.

“How much longer do we have till sundown?” Rhys was getting anxious again. As they spoke the people looking to claim their bounties could be getting closer and closer. 

Timothy stopped packing for a second and lifted a corner of the curtain. "It… looks to be pretty down for me." He said peering through the corner, "but I'm not the expert here." He nodded back towards Rhys before going back to what he was doing.

Jack gathered the few things he had. The room was a pig sty, even more than it usually was when the twins had a room together because of Jack’s tantrum the night before, but the two had a real talent for somehow being able to pack quickly and not forget anything despite the chaos. Twenty years of moving around and hunting creatures together taught them a few tricks. 

"I don't know about you guys," Jack holstered one of his favorite pistols before he zipped up the final bag and threw it over his shoulder, "but I'm just about ready to go meet Rhysie’s friend. He's gotta be a real improvement from this loser, I mean you really can't get much worse than this guy, but I'll keep an open mind." 

Rhys laid back on the bed as the two men quickly got their things in order. It was honestly impressive how efficient they were at it. He grumbled, "Wow, thanks for the compliment. I do my best." _Why did he have to get stuck with this prick again?_

"But yeah, he's a great guy. You'll be able to see that if you don't try to kill him, which would be really nice.” He wanted to peak out the window and keep a lookout, but he had already been scorched enough today. If they never had to come back to this crappy motel he'd be more than happy. He pursed his lips, and glowered at Jack's back as he worked. 

“I’ll be the judge of that, pumpkin.” Jack snickered. 

Rhys growled, frustrated he couldn’t come up with a different plan, then was hit with a thought. ”Actually… I should probably call him, let him know we’re coming?" He looked at Timothy expectantly.

Timothy looked over his shoulder from where he was packing. “Here, you can borrow my phone. Just be careful with it.” 

Jack grumbled something about Timothy being too trusting with his shit while the twin in question handed his device over to Rhys. 

He quickly typed in the number. The phone rang a few times, eventually going to voicemail. “Hey, you’ve reached the money man! Oh, unless this is a business call. Sorry, just Vaughn is fine. Um… leave a message!” _Beep_.

Rhys chuckled quietly at the awkward message his friend still hasn’t bothered to fix. “Hey Vaughn, it’s Rhys. It’s kind of a long story but I’m going to be heading your way soon, and I’ll be bringing… uh,” he looked at the hunters, “I guess some frenemies? It’s complicated. I’ve sort of kicked the hornet’s nest. Sorry but I really need your help. Okay love you man, bye.” 

“‘I love you man’? Aw, does Rhys have a little boyfriend he wants us to meet?” Jack teased, but he disliked hearing Rhys say he loved anyone like that. Something was becoming seriously wrong with Jack, maybe therapy like Timothy would often suggest was a good idea after all. 

“What a gay little loser.” Jack added for good measure. 

Rhys sneered. “Sounds like someone has a case of internalized homophobia.”

“Jack, you’re bi what are you talking about.” Timothy groaned, finally finishing up packing. 

“Just because I have sex with men doesn’t mean I’m gay or bi or anything! It's just a side hobby, alright? I can do what I want when I want it so get it through your head!”

“Wow it’s worse than I thought.” Rhys said. “For the record, we’re just friends but I’m perfectly fine with being gay unlike _some_ people.”

“Whatever you say gay boy.”

Timothy groaned but didn’t bother with calling Jack out on his homophobia. He removed himself from the situation and left the room, carrying a few bags at a time to stuff into the car. Jack lent a hand too, though he clearly didn’t put in as much effort as his twin did. 

“Freeloader,” Jack teased Rhys for his comfortable spot on the bed while he lugged a particularly heavy bag. 

Rhys scowled, “You can call me a freeloader when you pay me back for dinner, homophobe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jack gay and homophobic king


End file.
